Bikepacking plans should be made to guide, however distractions can be part of the adventure. Find out what happened when Meraid and Dan went on a bikepacking microadventure along the Wessex Ridgeway. Date nights with a difference.
Do you want to see the world? Iohan Gueorguiev (Bike Wanderer) did. Iohan was born and raised in Bulgaria and moved to Ontario, Canada when he was 15. He spent the next 10 years there. He said that as soon as he saw the Rocky Mountains everything changed. This documentary follows his bike ride from the shore of the Arctic Ocean (Northwest Territories, Canada) to British Columbia (Canada)and makes compulsive viewing. I hardly ever use the word ‘Awesome’. This time it’s all I can say.
As of OCT, 2015, Iohan has been travelling for a total of eighteen months, five of those were spent working ( two months as a tree planter). He’s covered a distance of 13,500 miles, through Canada and the USA.
He won a contest to be a Blackburn brand ambassador (“Blackburn Ranger”) and is on the last portion of the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route (GDMBR). He’s made several more videos since this one, links can be found on his website.
Safely across and buzzing from the rush, I walked for a while. My legs in disco mode, shaking unstoppably. It wasn’t long till there was another river, shallower, narrower and easier to cross than the first.
To tell you the truth, I’m not sure if I wanted one or not, but I always feel a bit apprehensive before setting out on a ride that takes me into the hunger zone, which for me is about two hours. Interestingly, there are thousands of shops and cafes in Morocco, probably tens of thousands, maybe even millions and they’re scattered all over the place. Yet still, I have a fear of starvation,
There is nowhere like Jemaa el Fna square in Morocco. It might even be safe to say that there is nowhere like it in the world! And it’s at night that it comes alive. Storytellers, musicians, henna artists, cigarette and tissue sellers, fortune tellers and a man wearing a brown and cream striped djelaba, demonstrating how pink sparkly fairy wings should be worn.
Then I go and clean up and treat myself to a porridge facial, dye my eyelashes (so I don’t have to carry mascara). Just in case you don’t know, we’re off to Morocco where the women don’t let the grass grow, so I’ve dealt with my lady garden in the appropriate manner.