We booked a last minute flight to Milano, me and Joakim, to meet up with Gustav at arrival. Gustav had been away since June traveling in his refurnished camper van all around Europe. Jocke and I decided to join him for his last couple of weeks on the road including the drive back to Sweden. The plan was to start off in Italy and slowly travel north while trying to hit the best climbing spots along the road and occasionally get some mountain biking done. Our first stop was Finale Ligure, a small town on the Italian Riviera, not far from Savone. This was a great place to start since Gustav and Joakim were already familiar to the area, they knew where to park and where to find the good crags. We spent the first few nights at an abandoned camping spot, still equipped with drinking water and the possibility of a cold shower. In addition it was really close to the first crag, Settore La Torre on Monte Cucco. This crag was exactly what we came for – the famous Mediterranean limestone filled with cavities making steeper climbs and overhangs slightly easier to tackle. But there was another significant difference compared to the granite walls we were used to. Due to the porosity of limestone the grips were polished on the more popular routes making it very slippery in places. That took some time to get used to and caused several falls due to sliding off and made you spend some extra time searching for holds you could actually trust. The climbing was incredible though and on the first day we did one of the trips’ highlights, the corner of La Torre, an airy 5c multi-pitch ending on the nose of La Torre. This is one of the most epic climbs I’ve done because of its height, exposure and the consistency in difficulty. The scenery when reaching the top definitely didn’t make it worse.

The second day didn’t turn out as planned. We spent hours searching for a route we had spotted in the guide book, we tried combining different maps and GPS but weren’t able to locate the starting point. In addition Jocke stumbled in the rough terrain and sprained his ankle. Trying not to let that get on to us we eventually decided for another crag in the area which was easier to find. After a few pitches the sun began to set and we have to call it a day. The next day I and Gustav decided to switch from climbing shoes to biking shoes and let Jocke rest his foot for a bit. The trail started at the abandoned NATO base and reached almost all the way back to the town. It was a fun varying track with both long flowy sections, steeper, more technical sections and a few jumps and drops. The best aspect of the trail was its length, the descent lasted more than 40 minutes (including some photoshoots along the way). After a quick lunch we headed back to Monte Cucco for some afternoon climbing and you really couldn’t ask for more; world class climbing and biking on the same day.

On the fourth day the weather turned worse, clouds came in and the wind increased. We decided to leave Finale for some place with a more promising forecast. Before we left we wanted to get one last taste of the Finale climbing and redid the multi-pitch on La Torre (although a slightly different second pitch) and had some lunch at the top. It was pretty cold and windy up there and it seemed like Monte Cucco and Finale had had enough of us. The forecast seemed promising for Lake Garda, hence our next stop was Arco, a town at the northern tip of the lake.

When approaching Lake Garda the mountains grow higher and more spectacular. We spent the first night at a view point to have breakfast while watching the sun rise above Arco, the lake and the surrounding mountains. We had gotten a great tip from my sisters’ friend to try a multi-pitch named Ape Maia. It was a 200 meter 6b route, divided into 5 pitches and that sounded like a great challenge for the day. Ape Maia became another highlight of the trip. The mood was top notch throughout the whole climb which took 3-4 hours to complete. The feeling of being on the middle of a wall of that height is hard to beat and since you’re really focused on what you are doing the fear of heights seldom gets to you. The upcoming day it was time to start moving towards Scandinavia and after a day of single pitches in Massone (one of the most popular crags around Arco) we left for a short stop in Latsch. In the morning we went for another mountain bike ride before crossing the border to Austria. The trail named Holy Hansen was really beautiful with great flow throughout the whole trail. The needles had fallen off the trees coloring the ground orange and made it even more spectacular. We reached our destination, Bludenz in Austria, just in time for a short climbing session before nightfall. The limestone had turned into granite and here we felt at home with the kind of friction and sharp edges we were used to.

In Bludenz we visited some friends Gustav had made on his journey and they let us stay for the night and have a shower which was more than welcoming. At night we had some beer together and tried the local special; roasted chestnuts with dried ham. After another day of climbing in Bludenz the end of the journey was approaching. We drove back to Sweden in two and a half days sleeping in Hamburg, doing some indoor climbing in Lubeck and spending the last night in Bjuv, randomly crashing outside Mattias Fältströms house.

Living three tall guys in a van is a bit exhausting in the long run, it was pretty cramped at night and you had to wait in line to handle your belongings. At least we kept each other warm during the cold nights. Although it has its ups and downs the freedom of always being mobile and being able to go wherever you want whenever you want is unbeatable.

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2 May, 2017

Eurotrip

After a few years of bouldering, top-roping and sports climbing it was time to take the next step; traditional climbing. Since there’s a lot to learn and there’s no room for error it felt like a good idea to learn properly from the beginning. Therefor we booked a five day climbing course in Lofoten, at Nord Norsk Klatreskole. After a two day drive from Östersund we arrived to Henningsvaer where the course would be held. Food and accommodation was included in the price and we were housed in an old wooden house owned by the climbing school, just next door to the climbing café and on top of a tiny climbing shop, all perfectly gathered for a non-stop climbing experience. There’s a good reason for the climbing school to be located in Henningsvaer, it’s not only as scenic and striking as the rest of Lofoten, the surrounding area also accommodates some of the finest climbing routes in the world. People travel from all over the world to climb some of the most legendary routes in the area.

The first day we went to Paradiset in Kalle, about half an hour drive from Henningsvaer. It’s a massive climbing area with countless of single-pitches, and as the name implies, a paradise, especially for new to intermediate climbers. The course started off from scratch with some basic theory and simple top-roping. We were 15 climbers all in all and divided into two groups; basic and advanced depending on your earlier climbing experience. Most were Norwegians, one from Germany and four from Sweden, including our company of three. The day went by with blue bird and some chill climbing and the excitement was built up for the next day with the plans of a 250 meter multi-pitch.

The next day we were divided into smaller groups heading for different routes, 2-3 rope teams for each spot. Our group started the morning with an hour hike to reach the start of Bara Blåbär; a 250 meter five-pitch route known to be one of the most scenic climbing routes in Lofoten and included in Lofotens Top 50. Since we hadn’t yet been taught how to place the gear the instructors were leading and we followed, removing the gear as we progressed. The route is an amazing slab with perfect cracks for jamming and many good placements for nuts and cams. The difficulty is more or less uniform with a slightly tougher crux at the second pitch and reaching these heights on an almost vertical mountain wall for the first time was very rewarding by itself.

On Wednesday we headed back to Paradiset to learn about gear placements. It was actually quite difficult to make a good placement although the rock was filled with cracks. There’s a lot of things to think about and to climb effectively requires the ability to quickly spot the best placements within reach and know approximately which nut or cam size that would fit. After some practice under supervision you start to get the hang of it, though getting efficient enough for harder routes probably takes years.

On Thursday it was time to lead our first multi-pitch route by ourselves. We went to Pianokrakken aiming for the route called Pianohandler Lunds rute, a shorter five-pitch route with several larger platforms along the way. It’s called the hardest 4+ in Norway and it certainly wasn’t easy for its grade, especially if you aren’t that familiar to jamming. It was a great accomplishment to put our newfound knowledge to use and reach the top by ourselves although under constant supervision from the instructors while leading.

The last day we were being taught companion rescue in case of someone being injured. The process of rescuing someone is complex and requires a lot of gear, knots and uncomfortable positions. The most valuable lesson learnt that day was to avoid getting seriously injured while climbing and hope you’ll never have to use this skill.

When the course ended we still had a few days left before returning to Sweden. We used them to check off another couple of the most popular routes in Kalle and repeated Pianohandler Lunds rute. Climbing by ourselves these days was a bit nervous at first but at the end it made us more confident in both placing gear and making anchors. All in all it was a great week in Lofoten and I’ll definitely get back there some day to keep ticking of the Top 50s.

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2 May, 2017

Climbing Lofoten

The Alps. After Canada and Japan it was time to settle for a closer destination. Only to discover there’s excellent skiing to be had only a few hours away. The trip started in Chamonix, I was invited to a chalet in Les Houches (one of the five ski areas in the Chamonix valley) by my friend Ben from the Vancouver days. We shared the chalet with Ben’s father and his father’s friends, a funny crew, all Irishmen. I brought a whiskey as a present for letting me stay there and when I told them I had absolutely no clue about whiskey I got the very honest response; “No you don’t.”. The first day it was snowing and we decided to stay in Les Houches (a cosy ski area with all of the peaks below tree line) and try the Irish way of skiing. This included five stops at different restaurants, most of them to quench our thirst. At least you didn’t need to worry about getting dehydrated.

The next morning I was rather tired from last day’s drinking but the others seemed completely unaffected. I guess the rumors of Irishmen being eminent drinkers is proven true. This morning we had a rough start. When Ben collected his skis after having the bindings mounted the mounting was done improperly. That delayed us a lot and we missed the bus to Grands Montet. When we finally arrived at Grande Montet (the largest ski area in Chamonix) the line to get a ski pass was of course of the longer sort. When we eventually came up the mountain, at our first run, we instantly found great snow. I got excited and decided to go faster, but further down it was completely skied out and filled with moguls. I entered the moguls at a way too high speed and had no chance of breaking. The crash was inevitable and when I hit the ground I felt a major blow to the shoulder and I immediately knew something was wrong. After tumbling a good distance down the slope and finally came to a stop the shoulder was definitely out of place. I tried to push it back in place and it quickly clicked back in. I believe I was lucky since it wasn’t really that painful, and I was able to keep skiing with just a sore shoulder. It was probably only partly dislocated or as Ben taught me it’s called a subluxation.

After a rough start the day could only get better, and so it did. After a big lunch it cleared up and we decided to go touring while the visibility was good. We went up to the peak with the Grands Montets gondola and skied down to Glacier d’Argentière. Equipped with harnesses and rope we crossed the glacier and started up the mountain on the opposite side. It began with a small climb to pass a cliff before we skinned the rest of the ascent. Since we were constantly on top of a glacier we were pretty nervous throughout the hike. We tried to keep close to the tracks when skiing down, which isn’t really a solid rule, but I guess it’s as safe as it gets when you aren’t that familiar with the area. Since we had a late start it was getting pretty late in the afternoon before we skied down. The line we got was amazing, especially in the evening light from the almost setting sun. It felt incredibly fulfilling after the nail-biting ascent to get those turns. Since it was really steep and rocky and we didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks we climbed down the cliffy part to get back to the glacier. Climbing down was a lot scarier and this time we tied ourselves in, just in case. The whole day was overwhelming in many ways and after a cheese fondue for dinner with Ben’s newly arrived buddies it really felt complete.

The third day it was raining nonstop. The visibility was bad and we stayed in Les Houches for some more skiing in the woods. By lunch we were completely soaked and due to mediocre snow conditions we made it a short day. Later in the afternoon it was time for me to get to the next destination; I would visit Marie who’s spending the season in Nendaz. It surely wasn’t easy to leave the chalet with great company and hotel-like standards behind.

The next morning I once again woke up to pattering on the windows, this time in Nendaz. I predicted yet another day of cold rain with soaked clothing but we outsmarted the rain this time. I bought a single ride ticket for a chair lift in Siviez (pretty much the only lift that was open) and after reaching the top we skinned above freezing level. The snow was excellent up there and we made a handful of shorter laps to keep our altitude and avoid the rain below. When we came back to the ski area even that last lift was closed and we realized we had made the right decision.

I’ve been to Nendaz once before but it was a long time ago and I couldn’t remember much of it. It was time to rediscover both the village and the ski system, and Marie with friends were great guides to follow. The second day was definitely the best day of the trip ski-wise. The sky was blue and we timed the opening of the cable car to Col des Gentianes perfectly and got the first tracks down from there. This was the Alps at its best, with nonstop 1000+ meters vertical drop runs in completely untouched snow. We did some of the classic Verbier runs like Mont-Gelé, the highway and more, nothing too steep or gnarly due to the many visible avalanche debris. All in all we had an amazing day and were able to find great snow until closing hour.

The next day was the last day of the trip. It offered some fresh snow and the powder was even deeper than the day before. Due to bad visibility we stayed down in the trees but we found some nice cliffs to huck and many pillow-like lines. Some really playful skiing in the woods was a great way to round up the trip. Now tackling the remainder of the thesis will be a lot easier with recharged batteries and a (temporarily) reduced ski abstinence.

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2 May, 2017

Season '15

We decided to make this backcountry trip to Snasahögarna, a group of mountains in the western parts of Jämtland. We went there in mid-January, which isn’t a very common thing to do, for several reasons. First of all, the road is closed, you can’t reach the mountains without a decent hike on the flats. The road is closed since January usually offers harsh weather conditions, the hospitality is more often than not rather unfavorable. Also the days are short, giving less room for actions in case anything goes wrong. Without being discouraged by these facts we decided to get out there anyway.

The trip didn’t start quite as planned, late in the night before departure we noticed some parts were missing from Jon’s split board. We went to Åre village to see if we could find some spares and, after almost losing hope, we found what we needed at Åre Skidsport with a good amount of luck.

Off we went, hours delayed by the morning struggles. We reached the parking lot at the beginning of the closed road at around 1 pm. The plan was to get to Snasahögarnas vindskydd, a small hut, for wind shelter, in the middle of the mountains but we realized we wouldn’t make it all the way with such a late start. We started hiking anyway to see how far we’d get, we had tents and huge amounts of winter equipment packed in two sledges and two larger backpacks. When darkness started falling in the afternoon we decided to dig a bivouac just beneath the tree line. We had an amazing dinner of rump steak, mashed potatoes mixed with bearnaise and even some red wine to quench the thirst, all in the darkness only lit by the headlights and some faint stars shining through the slowly falling snow.

The next morning wasn’t quite as superb. Most of the clothes were soaked after digging the other day and since the air inside the bivouac reached freezing temperatures they became rather cold and stiff throughout the night. Some hot beverage and porridge made us human again and we got ready for the remaining ascent to the shelter. Gaining elevation with all the equipment was tougher than expected, I was completely exhausted when we reached the hut and had to pass on the evening tour which the others made. We considered putting up the tents since the wind wasn’t very strong that day but decided otherwise and slept in the hut. Lucky was that, the wind built up during the night and would’ve given us a tough time in the tents and we probably would’ve ended up in the shelter anyway.

The third day was windier. With a semi-clear sky the visibility was fairly good but when reaching higher altitudes the wind was biting pretty hard. We did three ascents that day, two on Tväråklumpen and one on Lillsnasen. The skiing was rather lousy with hard crust mixed with walls of wind-driven snow. The line at the west face of Lillsnasen was probably the best one, with a more even layer of wind-driven snow. It was a good day anyway and just being out there in the exposed environment is fulfilling in its own way.

Later that evening after a meatball dinner we discussed how unlikely it would be to have visitors. We were about 10 km away from nearest house, it was completely dark outside and the wind was shaking the hut. We concluded that this would be a perfect setting for a Gevalia commercial (their slogan is “When you get unexpected visitors”), at that time we were completely unaware of what would happen at midnight.

We went to bed early that night, as you usually do after a long day outdoors, it was probably around 10 pm. Then suddenly, just at midnight we woke up from the sound of two large guys barging in to the hut with big helmets, huge clothing and blinding headlights. They were clearly exhilarated, wasting no time before they blurted out Who are you?, What are you doing here?, What are your names?. Completely confused and disoriented from what just happened we must’ve looked terrified when we obediently stated our full names one by one while methodically being pointed at with a flashlight. When we realized they weren’t aliens but a mountain rescue team, and they realized we weren’t dead bodies but sound asleep there was a thick silence where everyone was trying to absorb the absurdity of what just had happened. Quickly we came to the conclusion that poor communication combined with a worrying parent led to alerting the mountain rescue. The rescue men seemed more relieved than angry about the false alarm, having prepared for the worst. They left soon after making sure we were all right and none of us came to enough senses to offer a cup of hot soup or why not coffee? We deeply regretted that.

To the down side of the story, even a mother must worry quite hard before calling the alarm and apparently there was dinner prepared for our arrival that evening, they must’ve been very certain we’d get home that day. I guess we all learned a lesson about the importance of clear communication. On the bright side it makes a great story, and even the national papers picked up on it:

Expressen
DN
Aftonbladet
ÖP

On the fourth day it was time to go back home. It was downhill this time which made it a lot easier. The wind was even stronger but we had it on our backs most of the time, it helped more than it opposed us. Half way down we left our bags for a short trip in the valley between Storsnasen and Lillsnasen, when we reached the top of the ridge and turned around to ski down it became apparent how strong the winds really were. On a not too mellow mountain side it was a struggle to move downwards at all since the wind was pushing you back up with the same force. It felt as if the mountains wanted us out of there because later as we approached the car it became clear sky and the wind calmed down. It was time to get back to civilization.

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2 May, 2017

Season '15

The grass is always greener on the other side; on the less powdery days in Whistler everyone was thinking the same thing; are there any even better ski areas around? Talk of the Japanese powder often came up and this winter we decided to put their flawless reputation to test.

As we got an awful start of the season in Sweden the urge for powder was greater than ever. That got us even more excited for this trip that we’d booked already in November. Two weeks to spend in Niseko, Tokyo and Hakuba was really something to look forward to. As we reached Japan we headed straight for Hokkaido (the northern island) and the renowned ski resort Niseko. It added up to quite a wearisome trip and it was frustrating to know that upon arrival in Tokyo we were only half way through it, time wise. But without delays and a great reception from the lodge staff despite arriving in the middle of the night it was soon forgotten.

After a good night’s sleep we started our week with a day in Moiwa. The top lift had been closed for two days due to high winds and heavy snowfall. They opened up on our arrival and this was what we came for. It was paradise; knee-deep dry fresh powder giving you the feeling of weightlessness as you hover down the mountain sides. There wasn’t much competition for the snow at all and later in the afternoon even the small crowds in the morning couldn’t be seen. The vertical drop was small and the runs were short, but they were incredibly enjoyable and we just kept going up and down until closing time and never wanted it to end, only just then we realized how weary we were, both from traveling and skiing. All of us passed out at 7 pm already and were fully awake 5 am the next morning. The time difference and tiredness from physical activity completely distorted our daily routines. That didn’t really matter; we were here to ski and could still get the most out of the opening hours.

Niseko consists of four villages, all merging through lifts on top of Niseko Annupuri Mountain. Moiwa isn’t one of them, Moiwa is a small resort on the neighboring mountain and that’s where we spent our nights. The lodge was amazing with fair prices and breakfast included, filled with likeminded people treating you like family, everyone discussing that amazing run they had or their plans for the upcoming days over breakfast and dinner.

The third day was a bluebird day, apparently very uncommon this time of the year. That meant they opened up the top lifts in Niseko and from there there’s a 20 minute walk to the mountain peak. The hike opened up for massive areas to ski which were unreachable before and we did the hike thrice that day for three equally amazing powder runs. Niseko is a much bigger resort than Moiwa and the vertical drop is slightly higher but Moiwa is seen as the preserved little secret without any crowds and it doesn’t get skied out even near as quickly.

The next day brought a storm with high winds and heavy snow. High winds meant closed lifts and we went to Rusutsu, another resort about an hour away from Moiwa. Rusutsu is less sensitive to the winds and the whole resort was open. The amounts of snow here was insane, and it just kept snowing. It was at least 50 cm of dry superlight powder and you got face shots every second turn. Snow wise this was definitely the best day of the trip. The rest of the days in Niseko is a blur of ongoing snowfalls, tons of pow, amazing people and great food.

Next up was Tokyo, the largest city in the world with almost 36 million citizens. The day before arrival they had received the heaviest snowfall in 45 years and that lead to big transportation problems. We arrived to Narita close to midnight and had to run for the last train to the city center. When we got in it was incredibly packed with people, the floor was filled with bags while all the people were cramped up towards the walls. On top of that the train seemed to be broken and we had to stop for 30 minutes at every stop for 5-6 stops in a row. After reaching the half way mark we had to get off the train, they were going to replace it. It took 45 minutes for the next train to reach us but then the rest of the trip went smoother. A usually 1.5-2 hour trip took us more than 5 hours and we reached the hotel at 5 am.

The following two days in Tokyo were filled with amazing Japanese food, arcade gaming, shopping, beers and karaoke. We went up a skyscraper to get an overview over the city; the urban area just went on and on as far as you could see. They have a complete district for electronic commerce and the prices were well below the Swedish ones, a lot of time could be spent here. After some beers the first night we checked in at a karaoke bar where you get your own karaoke room and all you can drink in 5 hours for only 4500 yen. After two hectic days it was time to leave for Hakuba, though we wanted to spend a lot more time in Tokyo.

Hakuba ended up being quite a disappointment, mostly because of unlucky snow conditions and the lack of time to explore the area. Since the trip back to Tokyo got messed up we could only ski two out of three days. The resorts in Hakuba are larger than the ones on Hokkaido and located among higher mountains with bigger vertical drops. The terrain is more challenging than in Niseko but the poor snow conditions ruined the experience. Every off piste run started off with a few good turns but eventually turned into unskiable crust.

The trip back to Tokyo gave us another experience of the vulnerable transportation system due to heavy snow. The day before leaving Hakuba they shut down the highway towards Tokyo, no buses were going that day and probably not the next day either. The next morning we went to the bus station in hope to catch the next bus for Tokyo. Now they knew for certain that no buses for Tokyo were going this day or the next. There was still a chance, the bus to Nagano was still going and from there we might be able to continue by train. We bought a ticket to Nagano but 10 minutes before departure Peter told me the news of an avalanche covering the road and it hit an oil tank on its way down. It all sounded like a bad joke to me. Now the hopelessness was complete, we were almost certain to miss the flight. However they cleared it up quick enough and two hours later we sat on the bus to Nagano. Well in Nagano it was chaos at the train station, all evening trains were cancelled and there was a small chance of trains leaving the next morning, our flight left at 1 pm the next day, we could still make it with a bit of luck. Now we had to spend the night in Nagano but wit everyone stuck in Nagano all of the nearby accommodations were filled up. They hinted about a 24 hour internet café close to the station. We checked it out but even that was full. We ended up sleeping at a karaoke bar open until 5 am. It wasn’t a very pleasant experience lying on an uncomfortable couch, with screaming Japanese in the neighboring rooms, but it had to do. The next morning we went straight to the train station and after two hours of waiting unknowingly we hopped on the first train leaving for Tokyo, even though it wasn’t ours. Good thing we did, it took us to Tokyo with perfect timing to reach Narita before the check in closed. The feeling of reaching the check-in line when Peter looked back at me, smiled and we fist-bumped in silence was an indescribable relief. After two days of traveling and waiting in uncertainty the remaining 14 hour flight felt like a piece of cake.

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2 May, 2017

Skiing Japan

When the exchange ended I still had a lot of time before my flight back to Sweden but no particular plans. Three of my friends had decided to cycle from Vancouver, along the west coast, to the Mexican border (at Tijuana). I thought it was a crazy idea, but I have a weakness for crazy ideas involving outdoor activities. So I asked Ben:
– Hm, maybe I can join you?
– Yea, sure
– Cool.
Then it was set.
Me, Ben, Emiliano and Alexandra were now dedicated to a trip that would become a lifetime experience.

Three days before departure I finally felt prepared for the trip. Then I got a cold. Perfect timing; fever and headache right before departure. We decided to postpone it a day but even then I didn’t dare to go, afraid it would get worse. Since the bike trip was on a fairly tight schedule and everyone wanted to get going Ben, Emi and Alex left, leaving me behind to rest and hopefully get good soon. On the same day as they left I felt a lot better and decided to leave the day after and start catching up. On the next day (May 4th) I made an early morning, a bit exhausted from the illness but yet in a good mood and ready for an adventure. That mood didn’t last for too long, a few hours later I realized how over-optimistic I was when I thought I could keep the route from Vancouver to the US border in my head. After hours of failed attempts to navigate through Surrey I had to get a proper lunch, a map and ask for directions. With food in my belly and a detailed description of the road I was soon at the border. Passing the long line of cars to reach the separate bike entrance was pretty awesome. After crossing the border it felt real, the beginning of the journey, from north to south border of the United States; on a bike.

The following days went smoother; I was biking pretty hard trying to catch up with the others, doing long days and not too many stops. It didn’t mean I wasn’t enjoying the surroundings, biking is a great way to travel, it gives you time to soak in the beautiful nature and vistas, which there were plenty of along the road. On the third day I caught up and it was great to see them again. Biking alone wasn’t that bad but not knowing where they were and barely being able to communicate was a bit frustrating and it was quite a relief to meet them. So many things happened and so much was seen on the trip that I can’t retell it all but here are some highlights:

At Bay Center we met Ray and his friend, a couple of real characters. Listening to those two drunken old guys was like watching stand-up comedy. We even got a big box of Spaghetti Bolognese from Rays wife before we left.

At Fort Orford we arrived late and ended up camping on a museum garden. We enjoyed a great dinner on a high viewpoint listening to the waves far below and watching the stars while drinking beer at the campfire (although fires were prohibited). Here we also met Brozard, the legendary lizard. When we woke up the next morning the museum host invited us for a tour in the museum before opening.

Amongst the four of us Emiliano was the unlucky guy. He crashed twice, broke seven spokes and had several flat tires. Although he was limping for part of the trip he could still keep up while biking. As for myself I managed to drop my sleeping bag and shoes on the road (didn’t tighten the strap enough). I cycled far back but they were nowhere to be seen. I bought a new smaller and lighter sleeping bag and in a way gained from the loss.

We stopped at a beach in Bandon with massive boulders rising from the sand which offered some sketchy solo climbing. This was the first longer daytime stop and it was great to relax on the beach for a while, only bothered by vultures and seagulls.

Amongst many other things we whizzed through the redwood forest in northern California, we biked through a tree without paying the fee, we were totally legging it to Leggett, we lost and found each other, we ended up in the middle of Climate Ride (a 5 day bike race), we hurried down to Santa Barbara to get there before my brother left and made it on the last day, we checked out LA and got slightly disappointed, and we got an awesome guided tour around Laguna Beach by Taylor.

Overall it was a great trip with everything from the (relatively) flat lands in Washington to the high hills in northern California. Of course it was really tough at times and the mood wasn’t at its best all the time but when we reached the Mexican border the first thought that came to mind wasn’t:
Finally, no more biking!
It was rather:
Tomorrow when I wake up I won’t go biking, what should I do??
Cycling became a lifestyle, waking up early in the morning, eating the breakfast porridge, packing the tent and start pedaling, cycling until we reach the next campsite only stopping for some snack and lunch, and finally put the tent back up and go to sleep again. Nothing strange, the same routine every day, nothing to worry about, a simple life.

We reached the border June 4th, exactly a month after we started. Including detours the trip ended after just above 3000 km.

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2 May, 2017

Biking The Pacific Coast