Corsica was the next stop on our list. As always when travelling in overcrowded Europe, timing was the key to success. We went there at the end of September, which is perfect as tourists are mostly gone but there are some campsites and restaurants still open, so you can enjoy the advantage of luxury living.

Also temperatures are perfect, not too hot for riding, not too cold for swimming. We didn’t have enough time to see the whole island, so we chose to ride only the north-west coast and mountains in the centre with the island’s highest peak Monte Cinto - 2,706 m. We started and finished the ride in Bastia and did our loop counterclockwise, which I recommend. 

That was completely spontaneous decision and it was a good one! The riding on Pag is not the best you can thing of in Europe but when you want some riding combined with vacations its perfect. There are some nice hills there surrounded with gorgeous water of Adriatic See from every site - what more do you need? The only problem was we didn’t have time to see other Croatian islands. 

From that moment we are hooked for riding bikes on Islands and there is nothing better than using ferries - seriously! 

We visited a handful of the classic passes which are on every self-respecting roadie’s list, and we didn’t like them that much. Hours and hours of climbing in searing heat, accompanied by fat blokes on motorbikes and the rich in their convertibles, and masses of lazy tourists on each pass.

All this just exacerbated our distaste for spending time in highly-congested areas, as we’re not too fond of fellow humans. Most travellers claim the best part of travelling is meeting people. I think the exact opposite - 99.9 per cent of people I meet while travelling around Europe are not worth meeting.

The coolest moment of our Dolomite adventure was a most magical day in Parco Naturale Regionale delle Dolomiti Friulane, where we were alone for almost the whole day, and met two amazing Italian dudes having a walk (father and son, about 80 and 60, respectively). We had a nice chat about how we’d found the track, since they’d never seen any tourists using it. Those two gentlemen were examples of the 0.01 per cent of humanity we like meeting, and I had an epiphany, that this was what I love in cycling - finding spots where meeting another human being would be an event, where ‘normal’ people never stray.

We left the car in Mojstrana right by the local police station and rode out to the Triglav National Park. TNP and its surroundings should definitely be on your bucket list, if road cycling is your thing. The classic route takes you from Kranjska Gora to Mangart via Vršič Pass. The whole Park is big and interesting enough to spend several days there and not use the same road twice. You’ll have the extensive cycle path network, lakes, rivers, and one of the most beautiful climbs in Europe at your disposal.

We especially recommend camping out at Lago del Predil at 969 metres above sea level, and then attacking Mangart early in the morning for a 15 km climb and a difference in elevation of 1000 metres, right after your coffee and a dip in the lake.

The best time for this trip would be early September, so you’ll accompanied by good weather but no tourist crowds. On the other hand, going there before June might prove impossible due to the leftover snow (it might snow there even in May).

We conquered Mangart with our overloaded bikes, which was quite a feat. The views were absolutely breathtaking. However, we felt much better in the Park itself than climbing to the top among the cars and tourists. That’s when we started wondering what it was that we were actually looking for.

All my planning boiled down to looking up pretty pictures on Google Maps and associating them with waypoints. We had only six days at our disposal - our goal was to find the best way to join the big Ts: the Transfăgărășan and the Transalpina - two of the craziest roads in Europe. Located over 2000 metres above sea level, both are absolutely breathtaking. Riding along them you’ll be wondering what madman willed them into being, and you’ll be grateful, just as we were.

Setting out for Romania we only knew how much distance we’d need to cover daily to get back to our car on time. We had not booked any lodging, nor marked any campsites on the map; only beautiful spots to see. There was supposed to be more of us, but eventually only us two could make it. We shared a single tent, had espresso in places no one had ever drank coffee, descended the best road in Europe, all by ourselves. We munched on delicious veggies grown on ubiquitous shit (it was everywhere), experienced great hospitality and made use of our short time the best way we could.

The timing of our expedition proved to be the most crucial - Transalpina is usually opened to traffic on 1 June, so it’s best to be there a couple of days earlier (although we're not entirely sure it's legal). This should give you a chance to ride both routes - most of the snow will have been cleared and you’ll have the roads all to yourselves. We actually managed to pull it off by accident, we didn’t know the road was still closed.

The 7 km leg of the Transalpina between the two highest peaks was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever been in. The mountains scantily covered with grass, patches of incredibly white snow and the thin, black thread of tarmac slicing through the landscape dripping with thawed water - after just 15 minutes of climbing our brains gave up - this place was way beyond anything imaginable. 

Apart from the two big Ts Romania offers an abundance of gravel roads cutting through wilder and wilder spots - perhaps not as spectacular, but definitely rewarding with all the waterfalls, canyons, passes and beautiful nature.

All elements of the environment - seething vegetation, convenient, tent-sized plots bracketed by groups of trees, specially arranged fireplaces - all of that advertised Romania as the perfect country for bike touring. 

As for Transfăgărășan, by pure luck we got through almost the whole route, only to have to wade through 2-metre snow drifts at the end. I think if we had been there 2 weeks earlier there would be no chance to overcome the snowdrifts and entrance to the tunnel at the top would be impossible.

Our bikes also proved ideal for the task - tarmac and gravel roads made cruising through the land  a very pleasant experience.  

Some time ago in collaboration with Ra2nski we did an article for the 6th issue of our magazine about riding by bike to work everyday. My way to work when I was living in Katowice was a 20 km one-way trip to Tychy and I was trying to make it as enjoyable as possible. Most of you haven’t had a chance to see those photos, so here they are. Hope they’ll make you warmer and motivated to use your bike as often as possible, because it will make your life better and your city more acceptable.

Our first Swift Campout trip started off in a typical fashion - early Saturday morning we assembled at the station, where a train was supposed to take us to the actual start line of the ride. As it happened, halfway to the station I got a flat, which combined with a total downpour added a dash of excitement to the proceedings. Once we got on the train, which slowly but surely was getting us to Wisła, we quickly patched up my tube and were able to shoot the shit for the remainder of that leg of the trip in the finest company possible. Mr. and Mrs Director, our friend Kasia from Warsaw, the venerable Artur and I were soon joined by Adam from Fed by Wild crew.

Snacking It was around 10 am when we finally reached our terminus, and from there we started riding, until 2 minutes later when I had to pull everyone over at the cafe I remembered from childhood - it would be a sin not to stop for a cup of coffee and a little something. It was also a good time to do some instagramming, which elicited a few unwelcome comments from the next table. Some people like doing that. Full of coffee and goodness we resumed the ride, and soon turned on to some proper mountain gravel. It was getting really summery hot and some of us had to slow down on the long climb, pausing here and there in the tiny patches of shade. Using fire roads and dubious shortcuts, stopping for Instagram updates and fulfilling one’s dreams of ascending rickety tree stands and flashing poor innocent birds, we reached the summit of Malinowska Skała. We could not have wished for a better weather - the full-blown summer vegetation was violently contrasting with the clear blue sky, and it all played around us against the killer view of the surrounding peaks and valleys. Equally killer were some of the foot tourists’ looks, as they eyeballed us and our incongruent bikes.

Beeline

Alas, time flew, and we had to get down towards the Żywiec Lake sharpish. To that end Bart the Director directed us straight down the steep slope, where we fought against gravity and shrubbery. Can’t get any worse, thought I. I don’t know if this shortcut saved us any time (they rarely do), but we finally reached the road which was to take us to the lake and then to Magurka, our destination. As we were approaching the lake we saw in the distance a huge black storm cloud, which Artur had been threatening us with since morning. We had to take shelter for a few minutes’ worth of a light rain and we continued. At this juncture Artur bailed on us, as apparently he had an appointment at Tinder HQ.

At the lake we stopped for lunch at an old campsite that reeked of Polish communist era, where we ingested large amounts of pierogi and salads accompanied by excited shrieks of campers watching a football game. ‘We’ won.

Lost

We finally rolled off the chairs when it dawned on us it was pretty late (typical) and decided to trust Uncle Google, which proved a huge mistake (again, typical). How big a mistake it was is evidenced by the fact that none of us is able to recollect this part of our route - how we managed to get from the Międzybrodzie Lake to the summit of Magurka, we’ll never know. We only remember that it went through the living room belonging to a certain roe deer, rudely startled by Bart (he/she must have been watching a game or something).

Comparing all our mobile maps didn’t help - any decision we took would be equally damned. This is when our bikepacking adventure turned into a bikeclimbing nightmare. The trail was so steep we often had to use three pairs of arms and legs to drag a single bike up. I love PNT.

Gimme shelter

After approximately 18 hours of fun we saw the trail markers pointing to the summit and the shelter.

At the end of the road we were greeted by the local hosts, Majka, Michał and Wojtek, reaching out with bottles of beer. The hostel was generally closed, but Adam managed to wriggle out some more bottles. We were saved.

Since our hosts had only had a 30 minute easy ride up to the spot, they were employed in starting a nice fire for us all, by the side of which we could slowly debrief and relax. The night was warm and starry. Our hosts finally said their goodbyes and rode off into the night on their enduro steeds, and we hobbled off to pitch our tents. To this day I don’t know why the ladies took my Hubba Hubba, and the three of us gents had to squeeze into a new ultralight carbon thing from MSR.

Adam was still hyper after a whole day of shenanigans and made Bart and I climb the weird structure our tents were pitched next to, and discuss the unbearable heaviness of being.

Shower

The next morning hit us hard with its growing heat and most of us were quickly ejected from the tents. Our breakfast consisted of fresh coffee and LYO porridge supplemented by local blueberries and shameless kissing of Their Directorships.

Heeding Majka’s advice we flew down to Bielsko like normal people, the road representing the other extreme as compared to the previous day’s. Once all the way down, we again saw Artur’s alien cloud and we realised it might actually hit us.

In record time we reached the old market square, where we had to wait for the eateries to open - we had to have second breakfast. Once we filled our tanks with veggie burgers we got to the station to get tickets. Just as we were ascending the platform the skies opened and all hell broke loose. We travelled with the rain all the way to Katowice.

No-one bites the dust

Those who know us are familiar with PNT’s unofficial motto which states that ‘the fools are always lucky’. That weekend was more evidence that even when we try hard and our ideas get more and more stupid, we still manage to have a beautiful adventure and no-one actually dies.

Większość komentarzy na temat mojego roweru, w zależności od rodzaju drogi, na której zdjęcie zostało zrobione, to: „a czemu nie na góralu?”, „a czemu nie na szosie?”. No więc śpieszę z odpowiedzią: bo rower górski i rower szosowy są to bardzo specjalistyczne urządzenia, których przeznaczenie jest bardzo wąskie. Nie jestem endurowcem śmigającym po trasach w górach, najlepiej jak najszybciej. Nie jestem też szosowcem, który wychodzi na rower żeby odbyć trening, żeby być szybszym. Wręcz przeciwnie, z premedytacją na rowerze nigdzie się nie śpieszę i jadę powoli, a kiedy wychodzę na rower to minimum na 3 dni. Jak już jestem na tym rowerze to zazwyczaj mam dość oryginalny pomysł, że chcę dojechać w jakieś odległe miejsce, najlepiej jeszcze żeby było to miejsce nowe, a droga nieznana. Wiem, wiem, nie jest to zbyt popularne i lepiej pojeździć na tych znanych trasach, gdzie znasz każdy kamień na każdym zakręcie lub każdą mikro szczelinę w asfalcie na tej ulubionej pętli, ale nie. Jestem dziwny i jadę w nieznane, powoli. Właśnie, słowo „nieznane” jest kluczowe, bo jak jedziesz gdzieś dalej niż na trasę którą znasz lepiej niż swoją kanapę w salonie, to wszystko może się zdarzyć. W naszych realiach może to być 50 km pod wiatr na asfalcie, lub jakaś szutrowa dziurawa droga przez 10 km, mniejsze lub większe górki, zjazdy, podjazdy, taki drogowy bigos bym powiedział. No i właśnie to jest moment w którym mój rower wygrywa, jest to najbardziej uniwersalny rower na jakim kiedykolwiek jeździłem, jego specyfikacja wynika z tysięcy kilometrów przemyśleń, więc, tak, wiem co piszę.

Fairdale Weekender 2016 to stalowy rower wielozadaniowy. Dlaczego ta marka, ten model i dlaczego stalowy? No, więc Fairdale, ponieważ lubię małe firmy, które robią fajne rowery, które fajnie wyglądają i stoją za nimi ludzie których znam - jeszcze lepiej jakby byli z naszych okolic, a nie z Texasu, no ale jak kupowałem pierwszego Fairdale’a parę lat temu, to nikt w Europie nie robił takich rowerów, a w Polsce to wiadomo… Stalowy, bo ja po prostu lubię stalowe ramy i tutaj nie ma sensu więcej dyskutować, jak ktoś chce to może przeczytać wszystkie miliony dyskusji w internecie na temat wyższości stali nad aluminium, lub w drugą stronę, gdyby ktoś chciał to zrobić, to polecam również dyskusję o wyższości ogórkowej nad pomidorową. Na chwilę obecną na rynku mamy już większy wybór tego typu rowerów, więc mogę podpowiedzieć na co zwrócić uwagę: 1. Rama i widelec powinny mieć jak najwięcej otworów montażowych na bidony, bagażniki i co tam jeszcze wymyślicie.

2. Rozmiar kół i opon - w polskich/europejskich warunkach 700x42c to optymalne rozwiązanie. Warto zainwestować w dobre obręcze, ważniejsza jest wytrzymałość niż waga! Ja używam Velocity Chukker i mogę polecić z czystym sumieniem. Gdyby rama mieściła większe opony to jeszcze lepiej, od nadmiaru głowa nie boli, przynajmniej w tym przypadku.

3. Kierownica im szersza tym lepsza i to z dwóch powodów: po pierwsze w terenie łatwiej zapanować nad rowerem, po drugie więcej miejsca do przypięcia gratów. Dobrze by było gdyby kierownica miała jakieś solidne odgięcie na zewnątrz na baranku, co polepszy jeszcze właściwości z punktu 1 i 2. Ja używam Salsy Cowbell 2 - 46cm, ale mają jeszcze kilka lepszych modeli.

4. Przerzutki, no i tutaj zasada z podwórka im więcej tym lepiej jest prawie prawdziwa. Nie chodzi, o to ile ich jest tylko jaką mają rozpiętość. Z przodu używam blatów 50 i 34 a z tyłu kasety 11-40, razem 20 przełożeń. Brzmi jak połączenie szosy z MTB i właściwie jest to prawda. Tak gigantyczny zakres przełożeń pomaga podjechać w górach poza asfaltem co gorsze podjazdy. W Alpach podczas drugiej godziny jazdy pod górkę też polubicie przełożenie 34x40. Z drugiej strony na długich prostych z idealnym asfaltem potrzebujecie czegoś twardszego, na zjazdach w Alpach przełożenie 50x11 też udało mi się dokręcić. Nie wiem jak głupie to było z technicznego punktu widzenia, ale jechałem w Rumunii z górki na tym rowerze 88,2 km/h - prowadził się świetnie:) 

5. Siodełko, ja lubię te firmy Brooks, uśredniając opinie z całego świata robią najwygodniejsze siodełka, ale każdy ma inną d...

Co do kolejnej odwiecznej dyskusji na temat: spd czy platformy. Jeżeli nie zamierzacie się ścigać lub jeździć więcej niż 100 km dziennie to możecie zapomnieć o spd. Ja używałem przez rok, głównie z powodu dużej ilości asfaltowych jazd w wysokich górach, ale aktualnie rower ma zamontowane platformy i jest mi z nimi dobrze.

Na koniec dodam jeszcze tylko, że z roku na rok minimalizuje mój bagaż i w tym sezonie nie będę już używał bagażników i sakw, a wszystkie swoje rzeczy upychać będę w torbach od Triglav Bikepacking - polskiej firmy robiącej sprzęt na najwyższym światowym poziomie. Polecam serdecznie, ale są też inni polscy producenci i zamiast kupować jakąś chińszczyznę to kupcie coś od naszych zdolnych rzemieślników, będzie drożej ale zwróci się funkcjonalnością i trwałością wykonania, obiecuję!