All posts tagged: bikepacking

Treasures (EN)

I melted. Despite it being barely fifteen degrees. I felt the warmth. The warmth he had for his country. I heard it in his words. His beautiful words. The words of an eight-year-old boy who proudly spoke to me in English: “We are poor, but […]

2 comments

Schatten (NL)

Ik smolt. Het was amper vijftien graden. Ik voelde de warmte. De warmte voor zijn land. Ik hoorde het in zijn woorden. Zijn mooie woorden. Woorden van een achtjarig kereltje dat me trots in het Engels toesprak: ‘We are poor, but rich in nature!’. Wijze […]

15 comments

‘More’ mere (EN)

“After October fifteen, the government is no longer responsible for what can happen on the road to Chandra Tal. This is because of the extremely cold climate and unexpectedly heavy snowfalls. Tent camps have broken up. No one is there anymore.”

6 comments

‘Meer’ van dat (NL)

‘Na vijftien oktober is de overheid niet meer verantwoordelijk voor wat er kan gebeuren op de weg naar Chandra Tal. Dit door extreme koude en onverwachte hevige sneeuwval. Tentenkampen zijn opgebroken. Er is niemand meer.’

21 comments
@ LOGAN WATTS & BIKEPACKING.com

Explorer of the year (EN – NL)

[Nederlandse versie onderaan] Somewhere at the end of December, not only my mailbox was pleasantly surprised, but me as well. Full of disbelief and blushing cheeks I got to read that Bikepacking.com, the American website for everyone who likes cycling through mountains and valleys with minimum […]

19 comments

Wild wheels (EN)

‘Atkoeda?’. Drunk question marks behind large, black glasses of a women’s vintage sunglasses looked blurrily at me. They adorned on the nose of a Kazakh on a motorcycle.

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Wilde wielen (NL)

‘Atkoeda?’. Dronken vraagtekens vanachter grote, zwarte glazen van een vintage dameszonnebril keken me wazig aan. De bril prijkte op de neus van een gechambreerde Kazach op motor.

16 comments

Tested and approved (EN)

[blog post for Grinta! cycling magazine] ‘Doroga normalne’ I hear myself babbling as I drag my bicycle over big rocks. A loud laugh escapes me. Some miles further on, I’m sprayed completely wet when cycling through melted snow that turns the road into a river. […]

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