OFF THE BEATEN TRACK.

A story about adventure.

By Black Sheep Cycling

September 6^th, 2020

HEADING FOR THE HILLS.

Girona, Catalunya is a renowned road paradise for cyclists. It's less well-known for roads that go off. Almost criminally. It lay at the foot of the beautiful Pyrenees and is surrounded on all sides by single trails, goat tracks and gravel. So we dispatched our brand new ADVENTURE Collection and four of our finest with a brief to get lost and go wild. This is their story.

OUR RIDERS.

Miqui Rueda (needs no introduction to anyone with a passing interest in Black Sheep); Zoe Armstrong (no relation to Lance); Nicole Moerig (one of Black Sheep's ladies of many talents) and me - Nik Howe (an angel with a dirty face : )

We had barely broken city limits before stopping to get Zoe, a former junior British cyclo-cross champ with a penchant for nutritionless food, a white bread cheese sandwich. And beer!

Sometimes the hardest part of going exploring is knowing what to pack. And what to wear. We were also heading for the hills so conditions can change quickly. But this was the middle of summer in Spain. Typically it's as hot as mars and drier than a drover's dogs mouth. But this is 2020. So, you know, anything could happen and likely would. Regardless, we came largely unprepared. This, despite departing Girona with a car and campervan stacked to the absolute rafters. Like, literally bulging at the sides. Either way, we had barely broken city limits before stopping to get Zoe, a former junior British cyclo-cross champ with a penchant for nutritionless food, a white bread cheese sandwich. And beer. The cervezas were for all of us – it's both calorie-dense and thirst-quenching!

The route we had 'planned' to ride was the Pirinexus. A 353km loop that takes you from sea level to 2500m in 70km as you ride through, up and down the Eastern part of the Spanish and French Pyrenees.

When the Romans were handing out lessons in road engineering, the Spanish must have missed the whole semester in which the Italians and French excelled on switchbacks.

The parcours is littered with beautiful scenery – both mountainous and coastal, Michelin Stars (we wouldn't see any of those, they tend not to serve white bread) and a good smattering of decent hills. As we're all 'locals', we decided to skip the 'easy' part from Girona to the Volcanic region of Garrotxa and head straight for the hills. For anyone that knows Spanish roads - Tarmac or otherwise – they'll also be familiar with the fact that when the Romans were handing out lessons in road engineering, the Spanish must have missed the whole semester in which the Italians and French excelled on switchbacks. Spain loves its bergs – straight, short and steep. Take that equation to the lesser paved roads and you'll be breathing out of you eyeballs quicker than you can say 'la puta madre'. Add camera equipment, a gimbal and a drone and your language may take a rather choice direction. Choicer that is than the previous sentence!

The logistics of the route we were taking and the job at hand meant this would be a semi self-supported ride. We would occasionally have vehicle support and the 'home' comforts of a campervan. And toothbrush … or at least some of us. By virtue of some Wahoo trickery from Nicole, a completely unplanned deviation on the basis of Zoe spotting "an awesome looking road and pretty castle", we started and finished our ride in Camprodon – a medieval town on the Spanish-French border.

We found the pretty castle. The road, however, was beautiful gravel for, erm, all of about 2.7k before becoming a mixture of contorted concrete and hike-a-bike single trail. Thanks Zoe! We owe you one. Try as we might. And we tried A LOT, there was no other way down other than the way we'd just ascended. Was the pretty castle worthy an almost unrideable out and back and teeth-gritting descent. The lack of imagery of the castle in this photo essay probably answers that question adequately.

But, of course, the nature of exploring. Of going wild; mean things don't always go your way. In part that's the beauty of it. Where road riding is often so much about control, swapping the Tarmac for the trails is so much about the unknown, and the freedom to enjoy that. Come what may …

By this time, mid-summer had already turned to late autumn. Our Full Moon-lit evening had turned into what Brits apparently call a pea-souper. No idea why but it's basically dense fog. We could barely see each other's tents come morning. Let alone the Day-Glo Decathlon cups we had brought to chug red wine in and wash down our rice cakes. The ADVENTURE Splash Hoodie was the perfect barrier to such inclement weather. But we only had one. And Miqui was typically chivalrous with it. He kept it for himself. Laughing. Literally, as the rest of us fought over the only Merino Long Sleeve.

A good fuet-filled baguette and a beer for breakfast is enough to get even the most lethargic explorer moving. At 11am

But a good fuet-filled baguette and a beer for breakfast is enough to get even the most lethargic explorer moving. By the time we got our arses up for the last day it was actually about 11am. The final day we would be split in two and be punctuated by some more time nursing our thorn-destroyed arms and legs and fly-in-the-eye faces next to the campervan.

Then, it was the breathless, brake-neck speed (mostly) downhill, Miqui on the front rolling into Camprodon for a go on the medieval bike park (sorry Mayor Francesc Xavier Sala Pujol) and gin and tonics a plenty perched next to the town's iconic bridge (Pont Nou – New Bridge).

What's undeniable is the absolute sense of fun and freedom riding off-road gives you. That genuine sense of adventure. That ability to make you smile. When shit goes right. But more so when shit goes south. And you can just laugh.

What a way to spend a few days. What a way to ride bikes. Three of four of us – myself, Miqui and Zoe grew up on dirt. In fact, I was born with a muddy face. The other, Nicole, is now a complete convert having raced road professionally in a former life. None of us has left the Tarmac behind completely. But what's undeniable is the absolute sense of fun and freedom riding off-road gives you. That genuine sense of adventure. That ability to make you smile. When shit goes right. But more so when shit goes south. And you can just laugh. Because, well, you're in the middle of fucking nowhere, and you can only rely on yourself or your three amigos! And if tyre sealant sprays all over your Splash Jacket. Then you just have to acknowledge that Karma, can sometimes, be a b*tch! But getting dirty is what it's all about.

ADVENTURE.

The ADVENTURE Collection has been created to cross the divide between sport and lifestyle. A collection designed to handle the rigours of pretty much any riding you want to do, styled in a way that allows you to wear it off the bike. So whatever you’re doing or wherever you’re going, go wild.