Category: Denali

  • Denali part 2

    Denali part 2

    We headed back down from camp 4 to basecamp in worsening weather, we were tired and beaten up, but we still had hope to get up that mountain. On our way down, just before basecamp we saw two teams going up , a Japanese solo climber (Heron) and a Canadian 2 party team (Pascale and her friend) . In basecamp we saw more people hanging out and the climbing rangers where arriving too. My mattress started to delaminate and I was looking for people who where heading out of basecamp so I could buy theirs. Luckily we met a team from Seattle that was willing to do that and even offered us their leftover food. We where so hungry and desperate that this was amazing! We took their food with great enthusiasm and stuffed ourselves with new energy. We really needed to get in some extra calories, rest and social interactions. Many thanks to Glenn, Trevor and Micha for the food sharing, great time together and the mattress! 

    great times with Trevor and Micha

    A fresh start

    After a few days rest we planned to head back up again. We knew 2 teams ahead of us, and the park rangers were heading up too. As we were acclimated we hoped to catch up. We wanted to be the first summiteers of the season, and after the hard work on the headwall earlier, we wanted to finish the job of the rope fixing too. From basecamp, Micha and Trevor suggested to accompany us to camp 1 and help us carry our heavy supplies. Because we were acclimated, and with the help of our new friends we quickly arrived in camp 1. The same day we went up to camp 2 to spend a night there. The following day we arrived easily in Camp 3. We met up with the other teams and rangers there. Sadly Pascale’s partner got a back injury and they were trying to find a way down the mountain. Luckily they made it safely back down a few days later.  

    Not alone

    We spent a decent night in camp 3 and took it easy the next day to go to camp 4. As we where about to leave, the rangers and Heron were preparing to go higher. When Heron wanted to start off before all of us, I let him know about the crevasses on route. Mainly because he was climbing solo and we already fell in a couple of them. He immediately decided to wait and stay behind us so he knew where to go, a good decision.

    It was fun going up with the rangers, they’re highly qualified and experienced climbers, so this gave us an extra safe feeling. Julien and I were already very well adapted to the altitude, but they were going up pretty strong on the whole section. By the end of the day we reached camp 4 and we quickly pitched our tent on our platform. It felt a bit like coming home. Things where looking good for us. After talking to the rangers they offered us to use one of their technical ice axes, we only had brought one with us that Trevor gave us on the way up. But then they told us that in their camp supplies (which get helicoptered in to camp 4) is a sledgehammer. We could borrow that too to chop out the ropes of the head wall, if we wanted. After a bit of hesitation, we decide that this might be crucial to free the lines. 

    posing proudly with the new tools in front of the head wall

    Sufferfest

    Julien and I made a plan to get up the head wall on the fixed lines we already freed. Then Julien would climb up (in a belay) to the next anchor and I would chop out the fixed lines as a follower. This would take a lot of time, but made it safe as no ice would be falling down on anyone. We did that the next day, and oh boy, it was a day of extremely hard work! Carrying a sledgehammer from 4300 m on a steep snow slope, then climbing an ice wall half the way up to 4500m. There Julien was climbing a pitch to the next anchor, in less than a minute or so. The chopping would take 10 minutes a pitch or more. At this altitude it takes a lot of effort to even lift the damn hammer. It got cold, as we would have to do a lot of rope management and it got foggy, that meant temperatures dropped down to -30°C. Utterly exhausting it was, but we where having fun at first. Our goal of the day was reaching the top of the head wall. After lot’s of hours we finally made it. When the wind was picking up we got really cold and it was time to go down. Very quickly we left our food up behind a rock as our hands started to freeze. 

    We sufferd on that last part of the day. The descent we did carefully but went pretty smooth as we could rappel the now freed fixed lines. When we got back in camp 4 it was almost dark, we melted snow for water and food and went quickly to bed. 

    Stressing out

    The next day we took a day off, trying to rest as much as possible. We went to talk to the rangers and met some other climbers who were just arriving in camp 4. Most people heard about our adventures out here, the rangers in Talkeetna told most climbers about these crazy Belgians going up and now fixing the lines. We felt like everyone was really appreciative about what we were doing there. It felt great to get the acknowledgement and this gave us more energy to push on!

    The weather report Marc was sending us started to look great all of a sudden. So we prepared ourselves to go up to camp 5 very soon. I had a lot of things going on in my head. I was so far now and, for years I’ve been working hard to get there. All the cycling (+15.000km) , rowing, sailing (+11.000 km) and climbing to get to this point. So close to the summit. I had a hard time figuring out if I’m making the right decisions. 

    “So much emotions going on, I’m stoked to go up and do a summit push. But at the same time this mountain scares me. Such a beast, we’re out here alone. My head is raging this morning, is it good to go? Or should we wait? The weather looks fine, I feel good, but exhausted from the past months. I can’t go on like this for long, I need rest, comfort and being home. I’ve been away for too long and suffering every day with little comfort. Am I going too fast, do I need more rest, I’m getting impatient, breathe Jelle, breathe!”

    We decided to head to camp 5 with our tent and all supplies. The plan was to climb there, see how it feels, look at the autobahn. That’s a last big potential obstacle where no mistakes can be made, a fall there could easily mean serious injury or worse. 

    Up the cold

    The next day we headed out, up the head wall, this time it was easier to get up by using the fixed lines, but our heavy packs slowed us down. It was a beautiful climb though, from the head wall we followed a ridge to Washburns thumb. Regularly we find old snow stakes anchored in the hard snow and we’re happy to use them for our safety. Just before my trip, Petzl started to sponsor me and I took the Ange quickdraws to use as runners. Honestly, they worked great! (I’m not obligated to write this, but to handle them with gloves was really good, I didn’t expect it to be so easy to handle). After an amazing beautiful day of climbing we arrived in the not so beautiful camp 5 at 5200m. It was cold and very desolate. We quickly pitched our tent and went to bed. Late in the evening our Czech friends (Dismanteam) arrived in C5 as well. 

    cold camp 5

    The final push!

    We got up in calm weather so Julien and I decided to head out and check the autobahn, if things look good we would continue to the summit. As there was no trail we had to find everything ourselves, but by that time we got pretty good in all that. Soon we reached the autobahn. Luckily it wasn’t too icy, but firm snow, which gave us the confidence to carry on. Carefully we traversed this section, a fall would be fatal here. After a small break we continued, slowly but with confidence. It was beautiful and regularly I felt myself getting emotional. For 3 years I’ve been pushing myself to get here, the summit was getting closer. The weather was perfect, it was -40°c, but hardly any wind and full on sun. I felt good and the higher we go the better I feel!

    At about the last 3rd of the way to the summit, Julien had a hard moment. From there all the technical climbing was relatively over and he said: I’m too tired, just go alone, I’m slowing you down. I appreciate that he prioritised my success, but I felt he had more in him. The weather was good enough, and it was the first day of a good weather spell that would last 3 days. This meant that later in the day, or night, chances of bad weather would be low. I pushed him to go on because we didn’t need to rush there.

    The last hill up to the summit ridge created a last little obstacle that we overcame and finally after hours of climbing we’re at the ridge. It goes on for a long time until we reach the summit and tears are welling up the whole time. I’m reliving all the cycling, rowing, sailing, walking, hardships, beautiful moments,… the whole time till I finally reach the summit. I fall on my knees and immediately start to cry! I made it!!!!! We did it! Such an explosion of emotions go all the way through my body. Still here, writing this post I’m crying of what I’ve done there.

    Julien arrives a few moments later, we hug and thank each other. We stay on the summit for some pictures and enjoying the view. Still we have a long and dangerous way down. 

    Going down

    After the obligatory pictures we headed down with great care. We where getting tired and wanted to get safely back. Still, we felt great and while suffering, we enjoyed the walk down. Until the autobahn we got pretty good progress, but there we took it extreme care. This was one last obstacle before we could rest in our tents in camp 5. Very slowly we traversed this section, only to stop a couple of times to see the extremely beautiful sunset. Amazing moments and as we got closer to the camp we again started to feel that we’ve done it! At least this part. In camp we enjoyed a great but cold sleep. The moist from our bodies in the past weeks had accumulated in the sleeping bags and created ice cubes, awful! Luckily we were prepared and have an extra layer of syntehical insulation to cover that. 

    The next day we saw the Czech team heading up, we wish them luck and we pack our gear to head down to camp 4. Because we planned right, we had an easy day heading down. We were more cold still, probably a result of our bodies being drained. In camp 4 we took our platform again to see more and more people in the camps. There was even a Polish team giving us a small bottle of liquor to celebrate our summit!

    Gratitude!

    After a good sleep we headed all the way down to basecamp. We felt victorious and met many people along the way. They were all heading up and we didn’t see this many people in 5 weeks! Some talked to us when they recognise us as the crazy Belgians, we chat a bit, give them advices, wish them luck and head down. By late afternoon we arrived in Basecamp and organised our flight out there te next day

    Early morning we started to pack our gear to leave the mountain after 5 weeks, we were looking forward to meet Brian and Diane again. After a beautiful flight over the terrain we covered for the past 5 weeks we landed and there’s Brian, Diane and Jim. Many tears started to flow as we made it all the way back safely. I couldn’t thank them enough for all the help and information, without them this journey would’ve been a lot more 

    A week later we find out that our new friend Heron, the Japanese solo climber, fell on the Autobahn and passed away. We were saddened by the news and I want to express my condolences to the family and friends of Heron. The short time we had met on the mountain still gives us great memories of his good spirit he was in, RIP my friend.

    Many thanks to my sponsors and supporters to make this adventure happen!

  • Denali part 1

    Denali part 1

    Rest and Preparation

    A couple of days rest were enough to get us very eager to climb higher on the mountain! In basecamp, we met other climbers, though none were there to climb Denali. We dug up our food caches and tried to pack all our supplies for the next three weeks on the mountain. Julien had a new mattress flown in after his started to delaminate, while I finally managed to repair a small puncture in mine.

    Julien digging the cache

    Marc De Keyser from weather4expeditions.com started sending us daily weather updates simply because he believed in our project, thanks so much for that! After enjoying some good food and much needed recovery, we headed back up the mountain.

    Strategy and First Rotations

    Our plan was to take our heavy sleds as high as possible, making rotations to acclimatise and conserve energy. On the first day, conditions were ideal, the snow was firm, preventing our sleds from sinking. We made excellent progress and soon arrived at Camp 1. Thanks to our 10-day trek into the mountain instead of flying in, we felt strong and efficient as a team.

    The next day, we moved up to Camp 2 with relative ease, buried some food, and continued toward Camp 3. Just before reaching it, we left the Kahiltna Glacier, a special moment as we had now traversed its full length. The final stretch to Camp 3 was tougher, with icy conditions requiring us to attach ski crampons. Leading a steeper and icy section, I suddenly lost grip due to the sled’s pull and fell. Fear surged through me at the thought of dragging Julien down, but I managed to roll over and arrest my fall. A bit shaken but relieved, we reached Camp 3 and carefully searched for a safe campsite, avoiding crevasses and avalanche prone terrain. After another hour of digging a platform and building protective walls, we settled in.

    early morning after camp 1
    the whole glacier we crossed!
    Some frustrations heading up ski hill
    just buried our cache
    almost up to camp 3
    making camp 3
    protected (for now)

    The following day, we retrieved the supplies we had buried at Camp 2 and returned to Camp 3, ready for the next stage.

    Perfect Timing

    Marc’s weather updates were crucial in planning our ascent. Making the right decisions was mentally difficult, especially with no one else on the mountain, no trails, no platforms, just us and the elements. We pushed for Camp 3 ahead of worsening weather, hoping to climb above the clouds and benefit from the sun and calmer conditions. Somehow, we managed to stay above the clouds most of the time, and our timing was spot on.

    protected from some wind
    relaxing above the clouds

    From Camp 3, we could see Motorcycle Hill. It didn’t look too technical at first glance, but it was icy. After navigating the hard ice and snow with heavy sleds, we reached the top within an hour. “This is why we love this,” Julien said as we saw the beautiful views.

    Up motorcycle hill

    Next came Squirrel Hill, a steep and icy traverse where our sleds constantly pulled us sideways. Each step needed to be taken carefully to avoid being pulled off balance. Falling here would be disastrous, but thankfully, there were no crevasses.

    Windy Corner, known for its high winds, was our next challenge. The ice was blue and hard, making foot placement difficult while our sleds pulled us sideways. I was leading and felt immense pressure, any mistake could be fatal. At one point, I stepped onto what looked like firm snow, only to sink in waist-deep. A small crevasse fall, but still very scary. My heavy sled pulled me sideways, making it tricky to escape. Staying calm, I assessed my situation while Julien encouraged me. Eventually, I crawled out, and we carefully crossed Windy Corner. Relieved but aware that we’d have to face it again, we pressed on.

    just getting out of the crevasse
    buried our cache past windy corner

    We navigated a few more crevasse fields before reaching a gentle, sunny slope where we buried our supplies before heading all the way back down to Camp 3, exhausted but satisfied with our progress.

    back down to camp 3
    exhaleusted

    Pushing Higher

    The next day, we left Camp 3 with really heavy packs, we left our sleds and skis in camp to avoid the sidepulling struggle. While physically harder, it made the ascent much easier. We passed Windy Corner with more confidence despite the cold wind and finally arrived at Camp 4. After another hour of digging and building walls, we felt great and closer to the summit. We spotted the next section of the route to camp 5, we’re almost there!

    the view from camp 4
    probing for a good camp spot

    After a good night’s rest, we retrieved our buried supplies and spent the afternoon making our walls stronger. It felt like being kids again, building a snow fortress, but this time against the fierce storms that could hit at any moment. The next day was a rest day, enjoying the views and taking naps as needed. The summit felt within reach.

    that head wall looks icy!
    protected

    But one major obstacle remained: the Headwall.

    A Critical Decision

    The Headwall is a steep section usually equipped with fixed lines, allowing climbers to ascend with relative ease using jumars. We had been warned about its icy conditions at the time and expected the fixed lines to be buried or frozen in. After an hour of climbing from Camp 4, we reached the Bergschrund at its base. We spotted ropes, but they were under extreme tension.

    high above camp 4
    there’s our backpack!
    climbing up the head wall
    somewhere on the head wall
    just below the head wall

    Julien climbed up to assess them, and we had no choice but to cut one loose. I anchored myself and our gear before cutting into the rope, expecting a violent snap. The moment my knife touched it, the rope snapped with such force that it pulled out our anchor and sent one of our backpacks flying. We watched helplessly as it tumbled down the mountain, stopping just before a crevasse. We calmed down and went down for the pack, then returned to the Headwall.

    Freeing the frozen lines required hours of chopping with our ice axes in -30°C temperatures at 4500m elevation. By sunset, we had only made it halfway up, completely exhausted. Back at Camp 4, we had a serious decision to make. We needed more technical gear to safely climb the Headwall. The forecast showed two perfect summit days ahead, but beyond that, some bad weather came in. Staying in Camp 4 for a week, risking our supplies would finish, was not an option.

    views from C 4
    some huge crevasses below C4
    heading back down
    back to basecamp in worsening conditions

    With heavy hearts, we made the difficult but necessary decision to descend. We contacted Brian, who, despite it being his birthday, drove for hours to buy and deliver fresh supplies to the company that would airdrop them to basecamp.

    I felt defeated, but Julien reminded me: “If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” His words helped me find my motivation. This was an epic adventure, if it was easy, I wouldn’t be here.

    Many thanks to my sponsors who make this adventure possible!

  • Into the unknown

    Into the unknown

    A Journey Into the Alaskan Wilderness

    After some much needed rest and recovery in Talkeetna, I could feel myself getting stronger. Thanks to the care and valuable information shared by Brian and Diane, I started to believe I could really pull this off. On April 2nd, Julien landed, and we immediately dove into preparations for five intense weeks in the Alaskan wilderness.

    Climbing partner wanted!
    Brian and his father Jim have the greatest Alaskan stories
    more shopping!
    the beautiful views from Brian’s home

    Nice to Meet You!

    When Julien landed in Anchorage on April the 2nd, it was an exciting moment, we had never met before! After my original partner was injured in a climbing accident, I was in a rush to find someone new. Those weeks were stressful, filled with searching for the right person. Then, Julien crossed my path.

    Our first meeting went smoothly, and it didn’t take long to see that Julien was a responsible and strong climber, exactly the kind of partner I needed for this expedition.

    Doomsday Preppers

    The following week was a whirlwind. Brian drove us to various stores, from huge supermarkets to outdoor shops, as we stocked up on food and gathered the last pieces of equipment. While it was hectic, it was also fun, our excitement for the journey was building every day.

    one of the many shopping carts
    prepping

    We collected as much information as possible about the approach to basecamp and dropped off some of our supplies with Talkeetna Air Taxi, who would fly the items to basecamp for us.

    First of the Season

    We were the first climbers of the season to begin an expedition on Denali, and the rangers made it very clear: we were the only ones on the mountain, so a rescue would not be possible. The rangers were extremely helpful and excited about our trip. We felt very supported by them but we knew that safety was our top priority. If anything went wrong, we would be completely on our own.

    training and training for crevasse rescue
    testing our equipment
    it’s official
    testing our setup
    our last meal (stoofvlees!)

    While waiting for the perfect weather window, Julien and I practiced crevasse rescue techniques over and over. The terrain ahead was daunting: more than 100 kilometers on the Denali range’s largest glacier, with enormous crevasses waiting to test us.

    Let’s Gooo!

    On April the 8th, it was finally time to start. Brian drove us to the last point I had cycled to (Petersville Road), and we loaded up our gear. The snow conditions were still decent, and Brian joined us for the first couple of hours. Having him with us was incredible; Brian is a true Denali legend. I felt honored to have his support and guidance.

    truckload full of gear
    Petersville Road where I cycled to
    2 legends (Brian and Luigi)

    After we said goodbye, we were on our own. We knew the next few weeks would be spent in complete isolation, deep in the Alaskan wilderness. For the first two days, we followed a snowmobile trail to the Kahiltna River. From there, we turned right into the wilderness, heading straight for the glacier’s starting point (more accurate it’s the end point). The experience was surreal, breaking trail as the first team of the season, surrounded by breathtaking landscapes, and hearing the sound of water running beneath the frozen river.

    Fork’s roadhouse
    right turn into the wild!
    Following snowmobile tracks to the river

    Battling the Bushes

    Before the trip, we had spoken to locals, including Erden Eruç, who completed this same feat 20 years ago. They warned us that navigating through the brush would be one of the toughest challenges. Manoeuvring sleds through dense vegetation wasn’t easy, but we mostly followed frozen river branches, which made things manageable. Occasionally, we had to climb to the banks, scout for a path, and continue.

    enjoying those views
    ughhh
    making the best out of it

    Camping felt comfortable for me, temperatures around -10°C felt comfortable to me after months of winter cycling. For Julien, though, this was his first expedition. Despite being an experienced climber, it took him some time to adapt. Efficiency is critical in such journeys, and my past experience allowed me to handle tasks instinctively. This dynamic allowed us to grow as a team, preparing us for the challenges ahead. Soon Julien got the hang of it and every day things got a little bit easier for him.

    Unlike most climbers who fly into basecamp, we were tackling the approach on foot. That gave us the time to refine our systems and grow stronger as a team, a process that usually happens later for those who skip this part of the journey.

    Onto the Glacier Highway

    After about a week, we reached the final moraine of the glacier. Getting there was a struggle, navigating uphill through bushes and dragging sleds that constantly flipped over tested our patience. But finally, we pitched our tent on the glacier, ready for the next phase.

    battling up the moraine
    crossing the river on snow bridges, very exciting!
    almost on top

    Navigating became easier from this point. The glacier provided a clear path to follow (just staying in the middle and go up), and we no longer had to worry about bears. However, the glacier brought its own challenges.

    New Troubles

    There was a lot of snow on the glacier. The deep snow was a double-edged sword, it provided safety on the crevasses due to bigger snow bridges but made pulling sleds exhausting. I was particularly worried about crossing large crevasse zones, which Erden had described as slow and difficult. Some of the zones were a bit stressful but thankfully the snow bridges were strong. We managed to navigate safely, the massive crevasses we passed were a beautiful sight and made us feel very small and vulnerable.

    getting clean in camp
    the highway up the glacier

    One day, heavy snowfall reduced visibility to nearly zero. We decided to rest, but had to dig out the tent regularly to avoid being buried. By the next morning, only the top of the tent was visible under the snow.

    heavy work
    pancake time!
    good morning!

    The fresh snow made progress even harder as our sleds sank deeply into it. Still, after 11 days, we made it to basecamp!

    Ready to Climb

    Reaching basecamp felt like a major victory. We didn’t fall in any crevasse, my major concern and felt great. Although we were tired, we had become a more efficient team. The plan was to rest for a 2 days, dig up our supplies, and prepare for the climb.

    Made it to basecamp!
    new supplies thanks to Brian!
    Food!

    After the journey through the Alaskan wilderness, we felt ready for the next stage. The excitement was building, this climb was starting to feel possible.

  • A very long winter

    A very long winter

    After a rest day in Smithers, I got back on the road, bracing myself for long stretches of solitude. Winter, which had been relatively mild at -22°C, suddenly got much colder in the weeks that followed. It felt wild and lonely, but I kept pushing toward my goal.

    One Last Stop in Kitwanga

    Staying with Deb and Lothar from Warmshowers in Smithers was a great break. It gave me the energy to face the upcoming cold snap. I knew from the forecast that it would only get colder as I moved north. For the first few days, I was still on bigger roads with the occasional chance to warm up. A gas station coffee became a small but welcome luxury. 

    Soon, I reached Kitwanga, my last real stop before things became more remote. I had a chat with my girlfriend and enjoyed a final coffee at a roadside restaurant. From there, I turned onto the scenic Stewart-Cassiar Highway, known for being remote, especially in winter.

    The Solitude Begins

    It didn’t take long before I was truly alone. Winter meant most places were closed, and I faced a 160 km stretch before I could find anywhere to stop. Back in Smithers, I stocked up on 10 days’ worth of food, as there wouldn’t be a proper grocery store for 1,200 km.

    For the first few days, I made good progress, but the cold, isolation, and lack of fresh food started to wear me down. I often wondered, “How am I going to pull this off?” The journey felt impossibly long. 

    On the entire Stewart-Cassiar Highway, I only had two places to sleep inside. Each day, just a few cars passed, and most people only took pictures of me from their vehicles. The only communication I had was through text messages on my inReach device, which forced me to get creative to pass the time. Sometimes I talked to myself, but I’m not even sure what about. I focused on staying in the moment, breaking the journey into small chunks.

    Entering the Yukon

    After the long stretch of the Stewart-Cassiar Highway, I rejoined the Alaska Highway. I hoped for more supplies, but everything was still closed for the winter. The Yukon felt magical, though, and crossing into it was a reason to celebrate. But with that came the real cold—temperatures dropped to -40°C, making each day a battle.

    The physical challenge was hard enough, but the mental strain was even worse. I was tired of being stuck in my own head, day after day. I started questioning why I was even doing this.

    Reflecting on the Journey

    I’ve been doing this project for 11 years now, and I’m feeling tired in a new way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still motivated, but I’ve realized I need to find a better balance between expeditions and my life back in Belgium. I promised myself that future trips would be shorter, with more people joining me, and definitely not as isolated.

    The stretch to Whitehorse was tough—extreme cold with headwinds made for long, miserable days. I cycled with heavy-duty mittens, but even stopping for a quick break would mean freezing immediately. Comfort only lasted for a few minutes at a time.

    Small Moments of Joy

    Sometimes, a little kindness made all the difference. One day, a car stopped to give me a donut, which made me happy for the rest of the day. It’s moments like that on trips like this that remind me not to take things for granted.

    Near the end of the ride to Whitehorse, I got some bad news. My climbing partner had been injured in a fall. I was on the phone when I took my gloves off and ended up cycling with freezing hands. My ring finger went numb, and I worried I might lose feeling permanently, but thankfully it came back after some painful defrosting.

    I had more than just physical stress. Now, I had to find a new climbing partner. Finding someone you trust takes months, if not years, but after reaching out to friends, I got lucky. Julien Roels applied to join me, and with the help of my sponsor, we managed to get him on board.

    Rest and Refuel

    After a few days of much-needed rest in Whitehorse, I stayed with Warmshowers hosts, Tony and Christel, which gave me the social contact I craved after days of isolation. Their hospitality gave me the energy I needed to finish the final leg to Alaska.

    The ride to Haines Junction was one of the most beautiful parts of the trip. Surrounded by mountains, even the CBC stopped to interview me. Someone also gifted me banana bread, which was such a treat! I spent the night with a family in Haines Junction, which was another lovely break.

    Pushing Through to Alaska

    But soon, I was back to long, lonely stretches. It was cold, often snowy, and the roads seemed endless. The highlight was finally crossing into Alaska after nearly three years of travel. It felt like an accomplishment, but the excitement faded quickly, and I found myself counting down the miles each day.

    One day, I was lucky enough to see a lynx cross the road—a rare and thrilling moment! But a few days later, I was hit with a stomach bug, making the final stretch to Anchorage even tougher. I barely had the energy to ride but didn’t want to stop because I was running out of food.

    The Last Stretch

    The last days of cycling were a real struggle. I was exhausted and just wanted it to be over. I made it to Petersville Road, the final stop before switching to skis for the trek to the glacier and mountain.

    At the end of the road, Brian and Diane Okonek picked me up. They welcomed me into their home and helped me prepare for the next part of the expedition. I’m so grateful for their support—they’re true legends in the mountaineering world and a huge part of the success of this journey!

    Thanks to my sponsors for making this journey possible!

  • To the last frontier

    To the last frontier

    After arriving in Seattle I felt I needed a break. As planned I went back to Belgium. This was meant for some quality time with my loved ones and preparing for the last stretch to Denali.

    Prepping

    It’s been a huge preparation for this part as I’ll be cycling for about 4000km through cold dark and remote areas. Then it’s on the skis for another 14 days before I can even start to think about climbing up. Luckily for the approach part and the climb I’m teaming up with Jeroen, a climbing friend from Belgium.

    My physical preparation consisted mainly of endurance training (running and cycling), interval training, climbing and strength training. This all combined with enough rest and recovery so I’m not tired before setting off.

    Another important block was to organise all the gear and go over the rope techniques we’ll need in Alaska. The gear list is immense and it gave me a lot of stress figuring out what to take, not only for climbing but on the bike as well! Luckily I’ve got some great sponsors helping me attain the best possible gear and I even got a new one! This year Petzl will provide me with all the necessary climbing gear.

    The mental state

    Being in Belgium gave me a mental boost and after all the preparation I feel ready to get this final stage done. It won’t be easy as I’ll have to cycle for 2 months alone in winter. I’m expecting temperatures down to -40°C, long dark rides and icy roads. As said before, I’m ready to go and full of new energy, the good time with friends, family and my girlfriend Valerie have helped me getting lot’s of motivation back! I feel like I’m getting more and more support by doing this so thank you all for reading and sending in those messages

    The last start to the great north

    By the end of January I started cycling again from Seattle. A big thanks to my friends David and Nathalie for helping me out in their hometown! With a loaded bike, full of winter gear and very excited I start for a couple of days riding in the rain. Not very pleasant but by using Erden Eruç (he did the same traject and climb 21 year ago) advice I got out of the city pretty safely.

    The first couple of days go great and very soon I’m in Canada. Because of soutern wind systems, I’m getting rain, but tailwinds as well. Just before entering Canada there are some floodings and it’s not easy to find a place to camp. I’m wet and tired so I decide to cross the border at night and continue cycling to a motel to dry my stuff. It’s still a long and hard ride to come. The border crossing went fairly easy and I feel immediately welcome in Canada!

    A whole new country

    Cycling in Canada feels different, I get closer to the mountains but it still stays pretty warm (up to 10°C, yes it’s metric, or partially here!), but wet. The roads feel a bit more relaxed although many people are still driving huge cars compared to what I’m used of. I follow highway 1 to Hope, where I’ll be heading North. I can’t really wait to get more north as it should be drier over those mountain passes.

    Pushing on

    It got a lot drier over the hills, and colder. Which feels good in a way and I’m up to make good progress. I’m following highway 97 all the way to Prince George. There’s no real alternative and I’m expecting much harder conditions further up these roads so I’m pushing to get a good headstart. After a couple of days it gets colder and I need to adapt.

    I start to wonder how will I ever pull this off??? It seems so far away and so very tough cycling, realising I’ll be out in sub zero temperatures for months! But like most things, I get used to it and the first time -5°C feels hard, but after -10°C it feels a lot nicer. Regularly I get to see beautiful views, which help to get me distracted. Because the long boring roads in winter make it lonely rides during the day. Distances between stops are growing and I feel like just one gas station in a day is a luxury.

    Let it snow

    While cycling I get to facetime a lot with my girlfriend which gives some extra distraction. For now I can still do that as the phone reception is okay in this area, so happy and grateful for this.

    In Prince George I take a day off, I feel after 10 days of cycling it’s not a bad idea and I had some snow during the cycling. I got away with my gravel tires, but on some occasions it got pretty sketchy. I swapped for my winter (studded) tires and did some maintenance for the extreme cold. I make a change of route planning and I’m heading west before going north, just to have a safer and more scenic route.

    Smithers is the last decent sized town I’m passing by, so another time to get a day off and prepare for the long stretches of nothing. During my cycle here I saw some beautiful places and it got colder, one night down to -22° which was a bit chilly. But strangely it’s warming up again. Good news for me that this is a very mild winter, bu not so good for the environment here…

    As I’m in Smithers preparing and eating a lot I feel nervous for what’s coming up. Most people here think I’m crazy and have never seen a cyclist here this time of year. I know I’m in for some serious long stretches and taking food for more than a week on the bike at least. Next big stop will be in 1200km (whitehorse), see you on the other side!

    Thanks to all my sponsors who make this adventure possible!

  • Cycling and climbing with ups and downs

    Cycling and climbing with ups and downs

    It’s been 3 months off the bike in Belgium and a lot has happened since. I’ve been climbing, cycling and preparing for the next stretches. The plan is to cycle from LA to Seattle with a detour to Yosemite. Then in December I’m heading back to Belgium for the holidays and preparing for the 3rd and final part to Denali. This will be from Februari till May. I had a great time seeing my friends, family and Marie again. I organised a brunch celebrate the 10 years of the Secutec seven summits and all the people who helped me in those years. I got an extension from my sponsorships, so a BIG shout out to Secutec (the cybersecurity expert), Elementsbvba (distributors of Houdini, kleankanteen, Nordisk, Patagonia,… lots of great gear) and VDWbikes (distributor of VSF Fahrradmanufaktur, my bike). Marie and I spent a great summer together but then we kinda realised our lives aren’t very compatible anymore. Sadly we broke up just before I left on this journey again. With double feelings I left back to the US for another part of this adventure.

    Fresh start

    Back in LA I meet up with some friends and head out to the place my bike was stored over summer. I take my time to set everything up, Karen and Bob are great hosts and take me around whenever I need to go to the shops. I feel ready for this adventure as this will include parts cycling and a big part of climbing. The first day is very nice as Bob is joining me and knows all the nice roads for me to take. But soon I get to some boring farmlands and realise that the wind will be against me for a long time (as most people warn me about). It’s great though, cycling against the normal direction. Most people cycle south so that means I’m meeting so many other cyclists every day, with lots of information about the upcoming route.

    Landslide

    I follow the highway 1 along the coast, which gets more beautiful the further I go. It’s with a detour I’m heading to Yosemite, but just so wonderful. There’s a landslide on this highway not allowing any traffic to pass. It will take a long time for the road to be ready again but because of the other cyclists I knew there was a way around. Just go very early in the morning, or late in the evening when there’s no workers there. So I did and it’s pretty great cycling in this region with not so much traffic. Just a couple of cars every ten minutes or so because of this roadblock. I guess when the road is complete it’s a lot more tricky to cycle. Soon I’m in Big Sur and there it gets really beautiful. Those redwood trees are amazing and camping in this forrest is too. After some decent rest I’m heading to Monterey by the coast and it’s all easy cycling. Until I go inland. Then things get boring again and more complicated. 

    Freeway rolling

    I’m trying to avoid the big roads as much as possible and sometimes I win, sometimes I loose. The biggest loss is when I try to get through from Hollister to Los Banos. Komoot gave me a nice mountain route, but after 30 minutes cycling uphill, I found that this road is closed. It’s private property and the owner shut it down. Pretty frustrated (and how is this just possible, it was public once?) I go back and go for the freeway 152, that clearly is allowed to cycle on the shoulder. Not advised tough. It’s just a crazy road, try cycling the E40 in Belgium on a windy road. Full of trash and other obstacles on the shoulder, cars driving by and you go uphill so slowly. Sometimes people think I shouldn’t be there and start to honk at me. There are cyclist signs painted on the shoulder so I’m supposed to be there. It was a crazy day and when I get to the other side of the hills I’m just done. I find a place to camp at a lake, where I meet really friendly people. A German couple I have dinner and beer with and then a Mexican American couple. Really nice to finish my long day on terrible roads. That’s what is great about trips like this. You get some lows, but you get rewarded!

    Back to the hills

    Another day of cycling later I’m staring the feel the first hills. I’ve been riding through farmlands again but on much nicer roads. Then I get to Mariposa, a bit of a gateway to Yosemite. The old road doesn’t have much traffic and I really need to get there. Late in the evening I arrive at a door of my warmshowers host. She told me she is on a trip herself, but will just leave the door open! I was super excited about having a nice bed again and maybe even a rest day, I started to get some knee pain in the past days. After my day off, and eating very good, I set off to Yosemite. A climber’s paradise and I was looking forward to this stop for a very long time! Just before arriving I got in touch with Forrest Schaeffer. He’s a hobby photographer and was up for a photoshoot as I would enter the valley. Just look at the pictures! I mean it really felt like I was cycling in a painting and I felt overwhelmed by emotions just arriving here. By the night was falling I got to the famous camp 4 where I pitched my tent and had a great first night.

    Rock on and fly high

    I came to Yosemite with not too many objectives or expectations. I just wanted to get to know the area, it’s people and climbing style. Even before I was really settled in, I got contacted by a couple of people. Cary sent me a message and we set off for my first multi pitch in the valley. The same evening I met up with his friends and all of them ‘adopted’ me in their group. A couple of days later they where planning to rig up a highline. That’s kind of a slackline, but higher off the ground. We left early in the morning on El Capitan, jugging our way up a couple of hundreds of meters to Heart ledges. The plan was to rig up the highline across this ledge system. While I was just witnessing the spectacle. A huge line, across these ledges, hundreds of meters where the result! Really impressive as I saw it just above my head and Cary was the first one to walk over it. Everyone had its go on it and I climbed up higher up to see it from above. Just amazing to see these people crossing this thin and bouncy line, high up. When almost everyone was finished they called me in to get there and give it a try. I was a bit reluctant but I gave it a go. Not easy being on something like that and in the end I managed to slide sitting on it about one third. There I tried to stand once but I epicly failed on that and fell off. Overall it was a crazy experience with that kind of exposure. I’m happy I was on my first highline ever, on El Capitan!

    The next days we did several other climbing trips, with different people. I knew it was gonna be a very tough one to be climbing here. The style is totally different to what I’m used of (crack climbing). And having a bit of trad experience helped, but not for the nerves. Overall I’m very happy about my time here already. I learned a lot and one day I want to climb El Cap so this was a very good first learning school for when I will cycle south again. Then I want to pass by here again and get one of the objectives here. For now, it’s still a distant dream and I need to focus on the next summit and getting there. 

    Not all is good

    After about 2 weeks in the valley I go climbing with David and we’re up for a long day out. I get up very early, but I’m feeling a bit off. I think I’ll get warmed up while doing the long approach and get into it. During this approach I’m too fast out of breath and we climb the first 2 pitches. A horrible chimney where I can’t seem to get through. When we get to the anchors, I explain I’m feeling bad and maybe should retreat. In the end I’m happy I did, because the next day I was really sick. That explained a lot over the days. At the same time, I wasn’t feeling mentally strong. A result of the sad news I heard that my aunt has cancer and not so much time left. It creeped in the back of my head and popped up during the climb. Being sick in my tent now and getting as much rest as possible helps, as well as keeping in touch with some friends and family back home. There’s a lot of stuff going in my head right now, the breakup with Marie, my aunt, being ill. I’m just happy and grateful I can call friends and family and talk about it. At the same time very grateful to have met so many cool people here so that gives me time to get distracted and space to let things come to me. 

    Still, I’m very happy to be here, even when being ill. I’m looking forward to be seeing friends and family in December, but enjoying lot’s of moments here too. The time off here I use to write, think, rest and prepare for the bigger objective: heading to and climbing Denali!

    The last days in the valley I went for a hike and a last multi pitch climb. The perfect goodbye to the valley and it’s great people. Then I left for a 75 km bike ride out of the hills, with some long climbs. I suffered a lot that day and when arriving in the evening I had a fever and a cough. This made me stay in bed for 3 days and I hope now, I’m ready to continue cycling up north to Seattle.

    Thanks to my sponsors who make this happen!

  • The long way north(west)

    The long way north(west)

    I’m currently writing (while being sick) this blog post in Yosemite valley, with limited internet access. I will try and upload the pictures of this blog entry later on. It’s a long story as I didn’t write this for a while…

    After a couple of days rest and goodbye to Marie, it was time for me to hit the road on my own gain. The first couple of days where filled with mixed feelings, excited about what I was up for and missing Marie. Enjoying the fact of being alone and just being alone. Hard to describe, but I hope you get it. 

    Beautiful wild

    The first couple of days I made very good progress, the result of cycling alone and nothing else to do. Something I expected, but despite that I really enjoyed the cycling. Oaxaca was a bit of a chaos to get out of, but wasn’t that bad after all. As I was cycling up North, I had a contact from TV Azteca where they asked me to make a report for the news near Mexico City. I made a detour to the big chaotic city for that, but first I had to go to Puebla for that. The ride there was beautiful, in between cacti fields and the canon alas verdes. It brought me to some beautiful places to wild camp, near rivers to wash and get water.

    5 minutes of fame

    After a days rest (and climbing) in Puebla, I left for a big challenge: entering Mexico City. It was going to be a tough day! With some big hills and a tv crew following me, I knew this was gonna be difficult. The same time traffic gets more and more busy and I was cycling on a major highway to Mexico City. When I met the crew almost at the top of the last hill, we had lunch together and set off for some filming. This means; riding back and forth several times to get the best shots, forgetting to eat and drink and do some interviews. Then it was time to go all the way down into the valley of Mexico City, a thrilling descent ending up in major traffic jams. We split up our route, making arrangements to meet in the evening at the main square of Mexico City. What came next was crazy! Cycling through one of the biggest cities in the world is never boring!

    You just have to keep an eye on yourself and traffic the whole time, it’s not the first time in situations like this (Kuala Lumpur, Bangkok, Jakarta, Lagos,…), but it never gets boring… It made me realise why I try to avoid the biggest cities.

    When I arrived at the main square we made a last interview and then I searched for a hotel in the area. I was extremely tired and needed some good rest. The next day I was just too tired to do anything

    Getting high

    I got contacted by Sergio, a Mexican climber, on Facebook. He invited me to stay at his place and go climb with his friends. So after an easy day in the centre of Mexico City I cycled all the way to his place. Surprisingly it was very easy to cycle and quite a lot of green around. Never expected this from such a big and crowded city but Komoot made a very nice route around. The next couple of days we went climbing there and realising I’m out of climbing shape. They took me out on some crack climbing, a very specific style, which we hardly have any of in Belgium so that was an eye opener!

    These couple of days have been great, good climbing, good food, good drinks and lots of laughing. They really treated me as family and I was sad to leave after a couple of days. To avoid the big traffic I decided to take the off road path outside the valley. A beautiful climb up to 3200m, but pretty hard and for sure the descent. I wished I had brought my mountainbike on the steep trails there. Crazy to say, but I didn’t see a human being after 10am and leaving one of the biggest city in the world. 

    Detours

    It would be too easy to get straight to the US from there, so I decided to make a couple of detours. First I went to Toluca, to pick up my waterfilter at a warmshowers host (thank you Memo, Jonathan and Elements for setting this up!). Where I continued to Queretaro, to be hosted by Alex, a Belgian cyclist I met in Senegal. He lives now in Mexico and definitely wanted to see him. He and Tania were the perfect hosts, I had a very good time there taking some days off. I even bought a hangboard in the climbing gym there as I really needed some training for my climbing strength.

    The reason for that climbing training is that I was eager to make a bigger detour to El Potrero Chico (EPC), near Monterrey. A Mexican climbing paradise! First off was the road to Peña de Bernal where I did a bit of bouldering and sightseeing. From there I went straight into some mountains with beautiful views, hills and descents, only to be stung by a bee just above the eye in a downhill. The next day I couldn’t open it anymore… 

     The road got more and more desert and soon I found myself navigating lots of gravel roads in the middle of the desert. Beautiful views and great places to camp, but sometimes hard to find water. It made me realise to plan a bit more carefully some of the passages and take enough of that liquid gold. 

    One time I wanted to camp somewhere in the desert and found 2 buildings next to each other. An older woman and her daughter sitting in front of it. I ask if I could camp on their property, for safety. They tell me camping is not good there, there’s narco’s in the area and I’m not safe to camp. My Spanish is not good enough to understand it all and when I ask if I could camp inside their garden its again a no. What I didn’t understand is that the mother was talking to her daughter and suggesting I should take her house for the night. She would sleep at her daughters place and I can sleep in her bed, take shower and have dinner next doors. That’s what Mexico is like! Full of helping people, just because they want to help, nothing else. 

    Climb on

    After 2 weeks of desert I cross over some other mountains and head down, suddenly everything is green, warm and moist! I’m nearing Monterrey and the roads get super busy. The big detour is because I really wanted to be climbing in EPC and I had made a Facebook post to look for partners. One of the people responding was Rancho El Sendero. They really loved what I was doing so hosted me in this great room with a bed, shower and AC! I met lots of great people there to be climbing with and Jan, from Belgium came over to start shooting for a trailer of a documentary. More about that later. We went to visit Escalando Fronteras, an NGO using climbing and education to help young people with a vulnerable background. A very great cause and great to visit them. If you’re interested, visit their website and consider leaving a donation!

    After a couple of days of climbing and filming Jan and Javier (from Ohh My Gatas) followed me for 2 days of filming and camping together. In his old volkswagen beetle they followed me making great shots for an upcoming trailer. Many thanks to Javier for helping us out on this one!

    Border walls

    From EPC I went straight to the border of the US. A special moment, as I was a bit nervous about this one. It’s probably the most famous and controversial border in the world. After a few easy, but rainy (in the desert!) , days I arrived at the Texan border. I had all paperworks done in advance , but there where a couple of questions before I got in . Mainly the usual ones like why a bike and so one. But once they hear about what I’m doing most question become more out of interest than anything else. 

    After this crossing I found myself in the desert again, only the roads where getting bigger and I needed some time to adapt. Things got a bit more complicated to camp anywhere as most of the land is private owned, and will include signs like ‘no trespassing, trespassers will be prosecuted’. Sometimes even ‘trespassers will be shot, survivors will be shot again’. This didn’t give me a lot of confidence for camping, but after a while I found my ways. Camping in parks of little towns seemed very okay to do, even there’s toilets and drinking water. Then again on certain kind of land (BLM) I was able to camp easily anyways. It’s a bit of a challenge, as this country is maybe the closest to Europe in a way, yet so far away as well. I really missed seeing people on the streets and the long sections between towns made that I had to plan really well. 

    Heat

    When I arrived in Texas I had about 3 more weeks of desert cycling ahead. This was going to be a real challenge as most of the long stretches had no water resupply and the prospect of headwinds. A couple of great interactions happened on the road, but mainly I found myself just cycling all day long. This is mainly due to the desert region as people want to get from a to b as fast as possible, and I don’t blame them. The heat was getting really hard with temperatures up to 40°C and no shade to find. Mostly I found myself cycling as much as possible as the riding wind gave me some kind of cooling. Whenever I stopped to eat, it became mostly unbearable. 

    I managed to find a couple of warmshowers hosts who treated me really well and made me forget sometimes of the hard times out in the desert. One day I found it hard to camp somewhere in a village as there were all signs it’s not allowed. Then I continued cycling and after about an hour I saw a huge storm developing. The dark clouds were rotating in front of me and I hoped I would miss it. Well this time it didn’t and suddenly I was caught in high winds and oncoming rain and hail. The hail got the size of golf balls and suddenly there was thunder and lightning, very close! I got pretty scared as there was no way I could hide somewhere. I got to the side of the road and squatted down to the lowest point possible. It was crazy and I wanted to get out of there, the hail was pretty hard. Until a car passes by in the opposite direction, I try to stop him and he does. It’s a border patrol car and allows me in, but first I have to throw the bike in the back of the pickup. I have to do it alone, as the hail is too hard for him to leave the car (which I totally understood). Even his windshield broke of it. 10 minutes later I’m back at the same spot I started before the storm and I wait at a gas station. I felt miserable and alone at that moment. I tried to find a place to camp, but nowhere… Then I decided to continue again after the storm and just at the end of town I saw people in their garden. I asked them if I could camp and they allowed, even I could take a shower and relax….

    Wild west

    In the Gila national forrest I found myself riding in the mountains and trees. A beautiful road taking me more remote and just for 2 days out of the desert. I loved it and found some great places to camp. But then one morning I start cycling and after 10 minutes I see a car that crashed into a tree. It looks that it’s there for a while but I decide to take a look. Suddenly I see a body at the drivers seat, face down. I’m slightly panicking and tap on the window but get no response. Then I open the door and smell that this body is there maybe 1 or 2 days. So I close the door and don’t know what to do. There’s no phone reception so I can’t call anyone and I decide to wait for a car to pass. There’s not that many and after a bit of waiting there’s the first one. I try to stop them but they don’t even slow down. I’m surprised as it’s clear there’s been a car crash and a cyclist in need of help. Then a second passes and doesn’t stop either. After the third, which slows down, opens his window and sets off again. I get really angry and don’t understand why people wouldn’t stop for other people in need. So I continue cycling for 30 minutes until I get phone signal and I call 911. They just say they’re coming, I don’t even have to stay there and cycle on, no-one wants to hear my story it seems. I understand people are scared, but does that have to mean we loose our humanity? It still upsets me writing this and I don’t agree with people riding on when someone is obviously in need.

    Long stretches

    After my pleasant time in Phoenix, where I stayed with Layne and his family, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Better known as Mormons but that’s not completely true. It’s always interesting to meet people from all backgrounds, cultures and religions so I had fun hanging out with them and I was interested and happy they showed me around their life. Then I head out to the desert again and the headwinds as always were messing with me. After a while you learn to deal with it. What I usually try to do is just lower my gears and keep on going. Trying not to get frustrated or fight the winds, just calmly go and I’ll make it. I feel that by doing that I have less frustrations and I arrive maybe a bit later at my goal, I will get there with more mental and physical energy. 

    The longest stretch I had to to without water was about 160km, but it didn’t work out to be a full day of cycling. So I just took enough water to get me through 2 days, which with this heat is not easy. I’m drinking about 7 liters a day and with making food I nearly have enough. Yet I make it through the last part before entering a more crowded area, Joshua Tree. The road there is quite busy though and people don’t seem to have a lot of patience in the desert. Whenever there’s a car behind me and upcoming traffic, they wouldn’t slow down but just get scary close to me. For these couple of seconds people are risking my life and it makes me furious from time to time.

    Enough

    When I reach Joshua Tree I decide to take a day off , but not to visit the park. There’s just another desert and it can be nice I guess, but after 5 weeks of desert, I had enough of it and needed rest. So I continued cycling to LA, my first goal of this journey. Getting into the valley was pretty hard, there was suddenly no road I was allowed to cycle on, but I did in the end. A 5 (or 6?) Lane highway with crazy headwinds for a few kilometers. It was crazy and I was happy to get off it. Then I drove about 2 days through La, which was surprisingly easy, Komoot gave me a very good route. When I saw I was near the walk of fame, I had to make this 5 minute detour just to see it. Nothing special, but happy I made the detour because I wouldn’t go there otherwise. I cycled to some friends in Thousand Oaks and made my planned stop there for 3 months. I cleaned the bikes, met up with Nele a good friend from my childhood, and got myself ready to get back to Belgium for summer there. I had planned to be in summer in Belgium to get back to Marie, attend some weddings and more. After more than 9 months begin away, I really felt I needed a break, I’ve just had enough of all the sailing and cycling for now. 

    Plans

    After about 3 months in Europe, I’ll be back on the bike in the beginning of October to continue cycling north. I’ll make a detour to Yosemite for a couple of weeks of climbing there. The plan is to reach Seattle and head back to Europe again once more for December and Januari. I still have a life in Belgium. Then I’ll be going back to Seattle in februari 2024 where I will cycle in winter through Canada and Alaska. This will be hard as these are dark months over there and very cold. I’m expecting temperatures down to -40 (yes °C or F that’s the same) and icy roads. The reason being is that I will have to start skiing to Denali in the first week of April with Jeroen. Otherwise the snow can become too soft and difficult to ski. Then we plan to ski for 10 days to basecamp and climb Denali in April – May. 

    Thanks to my sponsors for making this possible!

  • For the love of the mountains

    For the love of the mountains

    The ride to the Ruta de las Flores seemed to be a great choice for us. We both love cycling in the mountains and from then on we decided to do more of that. With Guatemala ahead of us it wasn’t so difficult to keep this promise. It’s a big country with almost everywhere (steep) hills and many people we meet warn us for that. For us, we enjoyed it really hard, even if it meant pushing harder and slower progress. With mountain passes over 3000m (10.000ft) we were in for a treat! 

    What borders?

    Exiting El Salvador and entering Guatemala was again such and easy process. Only showing up at the Guatemalan immigration (El Salvador didn’t even give a stamp) and a few minutes later “Bienvenido a Guatemala!”. This is by far the easiest region to be crossing borders (speaking from my side with a Belgian passport). It makes me realise how lucky I am holding this passport and very aware of the inequality in the world for people wanting to do similar trips. 

    Sick of the hills?

    Most people travelling the Americas go from North to South. Making us meet many travellers along the way as we’re heading the opposite direction. It’s the first time I really meet so many cyclists on the road and when we talk to them, most are pretty sick of the hills in Guatemala. They seem to look forward to the coastal roads of Central America with more facilities and flat roads. Marie and I talk about it and it makes us feel a bit nervous for what’s about to come. Still we head on the first climb in Guatemala. That day is beautiful and very bad at the same time. We found ourselves in a mix of bigger roads with lot’s of traffic (I hate it when going uphill) and some quieter roads with beautiful views.

    After a while we decide to take a really quiet gravel road up to lake Amitatlan. Mainly because there we get closer to Guatemala City, which has crazy traffic in its surroundings. Luckily our warmshowers host gave us a different option to avoid most of it to Antigua. Still we couldn’t avoid all busy roads, but a beautiful climb with perfect new asphalt and almost no traffic takes us over a mountain pass to Antigua. 

    Fire!

    In Antigua we decide, on the advice of Thomas (our host), to have more rest days than planned. It’s a beautiful city and we meet Darius, another cyclist who had a brain tumor in the past and was left-sided paralysed for a while. Now he’s cycling his way down from Canada to Argentina! Always great to meet inspirational stories on my route. 

    After 2 days of rest our legs start to itch again and we decide to climb the Acatanango Volcano by foot. It takes only 2 days to hike up to almost 4000m and down, but the main highlight is the view of the Volcano de Fuego (Fire volcano). Every 30 minutes or so it erupts some smoke, or so it seems during the daytime. But when it’s night we had the view of erupting lava from the top.

    After the summit we headed down really easily. But then the next days our legs were burning! We are really well trained and everything went so easy, but the downhill made our legs really sore. We took another day off to walk around town and prepare to cycle further into the Guatemalan hills.

    Creativity

    First stop after Antigua was the NGO “Maya pedal”. They make human powered tools for people around the area out of old recycled bicycles. These include coffee grinders, water pumps and even washing machines! It’s another great project I’m visiting along the way and my next talk (after the one for Authentico) the funds will go to this project. 

    Cooling down

    With many highlights in Guatemala we had to make some choices for our visits. The obvious choice was to head to Lake Atitlan, a magical place in the middle of the mountains. At 1.500m a very cool place with chilly nights and fresh water. The ride there wasn’t easy though and definitely not around it either. There’s no flat road and going around it means climbing up and back down to the next village, multiple times. I really enjoyed this whole region and was getting nervous for the way out of the lake area. I heard horror stories from car and bicycle brakes melting away, with roads op to 30%! With a fully loaded touring bike it’s not an easy task. Still I was up for the challenge and took it one step at a time. 

    It took me 3 hours to complete this gruelling climb, but enjoyed every bit of it. You’re almost always climbing over 10% at least and when you get to a point of 15% after hundreds of meters in the 20%, it feels like a recovery section. My Garmin (and komoot) indeed gave me parts up to 30%, but luckily just in the steepest corners. When cars where passing in the downhill direction, I smelled the burning brakes for sure!

    We headed further to Huehuetenango and were getting up to 3000m with our first rain in weeks! Very quick we got cold and wet and Marie was having a hard time on the road in these days. I like this kinda “type b fun”, but it took me a while in my life before I could enjoy days like that. 

      Going down

      The last days in Guatemala where mainly one big downhill. Sometimes with beautiful views through the valley, but the last part to the Mexican border where pretty tiring. Mainly because of the traffic and pollution. We didn’t really enjoy that part (edit: Marie enjoyed those days), although it was mainly downhill and we were looking forward to enter our last country together, Mexico.

        A whole new place

        Mexico was immediately different for us, everything is farther apart which meant more quiet roads. The vastness of this country brought us to some highlights like Cenotes ( natural hole in the ground filled with water), waterfalls, beautiful cities and rock! We even made a detour by going down for 1000m and all the way up again for the Cenote of Chucumaltik and the Cascades El Chiflon. They where definitely worth it! After a great sleep at the waterfalls we climbed up again to San Cristobal, a beautiful town in Chiapas where we took some time off and went rock climbing. 

        Sick

        We had a good time in San Cristobal and our rest there was well spent. From there we had a very long downhill, beautiful but on a more busy road. Not too bad when going downhill because you have the right speed not to be bothered by traffic that much. At 2200m it’s quite cool in the hills and by the time we got down to Tuxtla we where both having a hard time with the heat. Temperatures where up to 38°C (in the shade) and just during the last 100m of climbing up to this city, Marie tells me she can’t go on. We stop and immediately she needs to lay down, then she vomits and suffers hard. We fix her a taxi who takes her and her bike up to a hotel where it’s obvious she will not cycle the next coming days. 

          Tuxtla is not the most beautiful city to be stuck, there’s only the Canyon which is definitely worth the visit but that’s about it. Luckily there are many hotels and we find some good and cheap accommodation where Marie can rest. It turns out she’s having food poisoning and in this heat it is so hard to have. While Marie is resting I’m trying to keep busy climbing in the local gym. I’m not only cycling, I still need to keep fit for climbing and other sports in this project. I prefer to keep fit instead of getting back to shape from scratch, with climbing gyms in medium (says the Belgian where the biggest city has 1.2 million inhabitants) sized towns, Mexico is great for that. 

          New energy for the final push

          When Marie felt better we were mentally and physically ready to head to our final goal together: Oaxaca. We still had quite some time so we decided to take it easy with some detours to nice places like waterfalls and lakes. 

          The heat got back to us and from the beach we had a final climb up to Oaxaca at 1500m with many ups and downs. We really enjoyed this climb as it winded through different landscapes and amazing views. We cycled through many agave fields which is used to make mezcal or syrup. The cooler air gave us again more energy up to 2000m and we made a little detour to Hierve El Agua before our last stop together. 

          Pain in the end

          As we got closer to Oaxaca our energy started to get lower again. Not physically but mentally. We knew the end of our journey together was about to end, which is always hard. It’s hard to say goodbye. From October ’22 I’m on this journey and we didn’t see each other for 3 months. Then we where cycling together for 2,5 months in a very intense way and suddenly, we’re all alone again. It’s a mix of feelings, happy we made it to Oaxaca, sad that Marie is leaving, thankful for all those moments, proud of Marie, scared to be alone now, excited to be alone as well, so many mixed feelings going on which is normal until I find a new balance in my life here again…

          • our last picture in front of our beloved Oxxo store

        • Time flies

          Time flies

          When Marie arrived by the end of January we didn’t see each other for 3 months. We took some time to relax while waiting for her bike to arrive and prepare for our journey together. We had the idea of cycling 2 months, from Costa Rica to Mexico. All very exciting as it’s our first bike trip together and Marie’s first big bike tour.

          With the wind

          After setting everything up and planning our next routes we left the village town, down to the ocean. That first day was mainly downhill, but for sure not an easy one. Most of it was off road and immediately an intense day for Marie. Luckily we found some great camp spots along the way and off to the ocean then. That first week was a bit tricky as we both needed to get to a new pace in life, but after a couple of days we found a good rhythm of being on the road. We kinda switched from mountains to coastal roads and back to the mountains. Whenever we had enough of the busyness of the beaches we left for calmer roads and spectacular views. The only downside was that Marie’s back started to hurt because of the really steep off roads. She’s riding my old bike I have cycled to Indonesia with. So not the perfect fit for her.

          Along the way we camp and find some homestays to sleep at. A good combo especially as it’s always easy and safe to sleep anywhere in costa rica. People are nice and with so many tourism in the country it’s easy to find accommodation. Costa Rica is an amazing country with so many national parks to visit. It’s hard, because we would just want to visit so many places, but with a limit in time (and cycling to all these spots takes time and lots of effort) we can just see a part of this beautiful country. 

          It is that in the end we decide to get back lower to the main road and focus on doing some distance to Nicaragua. Mainly because we still have a long way to go and so many places to visit! This road was pretty long and boring, but the exciting part was the wind! We had regular gusts up to 90 km/h , first from the back, literally blowing us forward but when the road changed it was more dangerously from the side. We constantly had to be on guard not to be surprised by this. It made the boring straight road a bit more interesting and pretty soon we ended up at the border.

          New country

          When we arrive at the Nicaraguan border, we get a bit nervous. We don’t know what to expect as we hear that camera’s are forbidden to take. In the end the reputation didn’t live up the border went fairly easy. I must say that it’s the 2nd or 3rd time my bags get completely checked in 10 years time. Immediately the scenery changes, everything is a bit more flat in Nicaragua, except for the volcanoes passing by. First we stopped for some well deserved rest on Ometepe Island where we take some time to relax and do nothing. With new energy we continue our journey further in Nicaragua. It’s a bit more searching for nice routes for cycling and from time to time we hit the main roads. They’re very easy going to cycle, not too much traffic, but long and boring in this heat. 

          The reason for that route was to visit a village called Tamarindo. An education project founded by Philip Vertriest. It helps children in this area to get a technical education. Most people in this area work in the sea salt mining where they have very limited life expectations due to the health risks involved. This project helps to give these children better opportunities in life. They’re doing a great job, but sadly they’re always in search for extra resources. If you get the chance, please help to make a difference and visit their website and consider donating for this beautiful project: https://vzw-autentico.org/

          Smoking hot

          From Autentico we were hesitating where to go next and asked some people. The owner of Via Via hotel in Leon told us we should stop by and visit the city. It is a Belgian hotel group (not a real chain) for travellers in different places around the world. Very nice places and always have a social engagement in the area they’re operating, like the ngo Authentico. Very happy to have been there, so far Leon is our favourite city in Central America! There we decided to go up into the mountains again to cross to Honduras. We were already toasted from the heat and needed some cool air. But first where a couple of long straight roads ahead of us with slights headwinds. They gave us some difficult time and it was the only time so far to listen to music while cycling. By this time Marie’s back is already much better and we’re going strong in the hills. From time to time I have to remind her we have to hold back, because we have a long way to go. 

          • Granada
          • Granada
          • leon
          • leon

          This area in the hills is a main tobacco area and first we needed to pass Esteli. Known for it’s cigars and tobacco plantations it is a beautiful area. The city is pretty industrial so not really worth a visit, but it was a good place to spend a night before heading more up to the border with Honduras. Before crossing it we took a rest day and visited the Somoto Canyon. A beautiful and peaceful place where the cold water helped us to recover our legs. 

          • Marie ready to jump
          • tobacco fields
          • water filtering

          Flying by

          It is already clear by now that borders in Central America are easy going. Very soon we are in Honduras. We didn’t plan to stay that long in here, mainly as a transit country to El Salvador. The reason being that nowadays safety wise El Salvador made a bit more sense to cycle in. Marie had some concerns in advance about Honduras and El Salvador, but she already left that idea because we get so much confirmation from locals so that we perfectly feel safe everywhere. From the border all the way in Honduras and El Salvador now we have such a great connection with people all around. Everywhere people wave at us and make us feel very welcome, always nice to have this feeling while cycling around. 

          • friendly dogs too

          After just 2 days of cycling we arrive at the border with El Salvador, another extremely easy crossing brings us into the country. We take a bit of a detour along a coastal road to be hosted by Jose, a warmshowers host. It is always nice to be meeting fellow cyclists in a country we’re passing by. We get a good insight how he and other Salvadorians feel about the new government and their approach to the gang problem. The government has made some drastic decisions to stop the gang violence, especially the Mara (MS-13) are most known and brutal in Central (and North) America. Currently there are more than 60.000 of them in El Salvador. They don’t have a lawyer or anything and human rights organisations are concerned. But many locals are happy about this approach because it really seems to help. We see people walking on the street at night without fear, which they really had up to a year ago.

          • I love pupusas
          • our great host Jose

          Flat and touristic 

          We stay near the ocean for the next days, mainly to get some easy km’s and we still have enough hills to cover in Guatemala. First we pass by a main tourist hot spot (el Tunco) which we didn’t really like that much (hence no pictures). Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful place and if you’re a surfer, go there. But we missed the authenticity of El Salvador itself. Luckily in one of the following villages we get another feeling of this coastal area. Not so much further we decide to get back to the hills to take the Ruta de las Flores. So happy to have taken it, despite the extra effort of pedalling this is a beautiful route. It takes you up to more than 1000m along beautiful vibrant villages whit good food and beautiful views. At the moment we’re staying for some rest in Juayua and lot’s of food before we head out to Guatemala! I’m looking forward to that, it is full of mountains, but it has a reputation to be very hard for cyclists. 

          Second drama

          During my rest here I got the news that my friend Cak Adhi from Indonesia has passed away. He gave me a place to stay for weeks when I was stuck in Surabaya waiting for my rowboat to arrive. He was a very helpful and special person and did a lot for the cycling community in Indonesia. He died during a bike accident on one of his bike tours he had just started. I’m really sad about the news, especially that it’s a second friend that passes away in such a short time. 

          And again a huge thanks to my sponsors who make this happen!

        • Land!!!

          Land!!!

          After two and a half months on boats and being connected to the ocean, I was relieved to find my beloved bicycle in Panama. Alf, the captain, dropped me off on shore and from there on I headed off for what I like to do most: being on land. This whole period I was a bit stressed, nervous and excited!

          Logistics

          Before setting off in Belgium I already had to make a plan to get my bike to Central America. It wasn’t easy, because I didn’t really know where exactly I was arriving. I found the boat with Alf and Susanne heading to Panama. From then on I had a goal and tried to find a good solution to get it there. First I tried to find a shipment option, but soon I found out that this would be a bit complicated. A couple of days later I remembered that my good friends, Janna and Gertjan would go for 6 months to Central America. I asked them if they would like to fly first to Panama and take my bike. They immediately agreed to help me and Gertjan even knew some people living in Panama. He called them right away and in 30 minutes we had a plan and booked flights and luggage. So beautiful how this all works out and people from all around the world are willing to help. Thank you Gertjan, Janna, Liesbeth, family and Marie (my girlfriend) to help arrange all this! 

          Back to Bike!

          So finally on the 21st of January (2023) I set foot on land, in the small port of Carti. I said goodbye to Alf, Susanne, Neil and Nick, my sailing buddies. I had a good time with them on board, but I was extremely happy that this ocean journey was finally over. In the port itself I unboxed the bike and put everything back together. There I was, on my own, in this small port and ahead of me thousands of miles to cover. The first part was going to be difficult and I felt intimidated about the prospects of it. It was a strange feeling, for months I’ve adapted to some kind of protected environment. Always surrounded by a group of people I know and choose to be with. I felt vulnerable at the port, it was all on my own again and from then on it’s just me who had to do it. Despite all the experience I still encounter those emotions of excitement, stress, nervousness, and so much more and I’m so grateful that all of them are there!

          Harsh reality

          With a big (really big) smile, I’m heading out of the port on a dirt road to the jungle. The next 40 km was going to be hard, I read about steep and impassable roads. I thought being conservative in timing and 4 hours would be more than enough to cover this distance to the main road. I was so wrong! I would like to blame it on the steep roads, heat, bad surface, which all of those where present. But mainly because I didn’t do any decent cycling training in months! That first part was a serious attack on my body, I suffered a lot, but I enjoyed it at the same time. It all got me worried a bit, because the 29th my girlfriend was about to arrive in Costa Rica and I still had more than 900km to go….

          New Balance

          The attack on my body continued in the next days. I was still a bit land sick, which means your head is a bit wobbly from all the time on the boat. At the same time I needed to keep my balance on the bike because of the main road I was following. I wanted to get as fast as possible to Costa Rica so I decided to take the Pan-American highway. With months of seeing hardly any traffic it was quite impressive, especially Panama City and the Puente de las Americas where pretty impressive. Another adaptation was getting out of the watch rhythm that I had on the boat. We had watches at night and naps during the day disturbing a normal sleeping pattern. Now I cycled for 8 to 10 hours daily and tried to sleep in my tent somewhere I stranded. Still, I had an amazing experience throughout Panama and the views where amazing. 

          Steep learning curve

          Despite my lack of training I managed to get over an average of 100km a day and I was pretty happy with the progress. Even the border crossing with Costa Rica was the easiest I have ever done in my life. The change was quite visible, from a beautiful Panama, I entered an even more beautiful wildlife of Costa Rica. Off course I was only following the main highway but the change was pretty visible. The progress was still going great, not too many uphill, but I knew what was about to come. When Marie and I planned our ride together we decided that we will try to avoid the capital of Costa Rica, at least to cycle. So we found a place south of it, in the mountains. Needless to say, I regretted it when I was cycling there. The last 2 days before meeting up with her I had to cycle uphill. Already exhausted from the previous days this was not an easy task. 

          Luckily I found some motivation in the fact we didn’t see each other for 3 months. So there I went, from sea level, turn right…. Immediately it goes up, very steep! The whole day I’m cycling more than 10% of gradient the whole time. The first day I’m going up to 1000m. The next day I have to go up to 3300m, luckily on not such a steep road but still exhausting in my condition by then! With all determination I reach the top that day and by night I reach a place to camp and prepare for the arrival of Marie. 

          Happy and sad

          Finally, the 29th of January Marie arrives and we’re really happy to see each other. We will be riding Central America together for 2 months, possibly up to Mexico. But just 2 days later, I get the terrible news that a friend of mine (Eline) passed away. It really hit me up and I don’t really have words for it. Such a beautiful person, leaving us too soon in life…. 

          Many thanks to my sponsors who help me fulfil my dream!

        • The other side!

          The other side!

          After my days off the boat in Gran Canaria we finally departed on the 20th of November for the ocean crossing to saint Lucia. A crossing that was supposed to be straightforward didn’t live up to the expectations, one part of that is adventure for sure and I love that, another part left me quite frustrated. I’m happy there were some very nice people on board for my mental health. About that, I’ll get more into it in a next post.

          • happy climbing kiddo

          The big start!

          I was looking forward to the start of this crossing, not because of the sailing but mainly to get this done. A mistake I have made, because it made progress a bit more slow in my experience. When we started I was excited and the first night we had some high winds coming up. With the first mate I’m doing some manoeuvres on deck. For about 30 minutes we get swept by incoming waves and we make up a good fight to get all the rope and sail work done. I’m completely drenched, but pretty happy about the excitement, although he had to shout wat I need to do while doing it and not explaining beforehand. I speak French, but these sailing terms make it more complicated to me. 

          Fair winds

          The next days we get fair winds in a good direction and we’re making very good progress. I’m finding a bit more the rhythm of the watches. We have a schedule for 3 hours on, and 6 hours off. But it is hard for me to be on a boat like that mentally. I’m having some fun with nice people on board, but it gets very boring. I’m used of doing lot of physical activity in a day, and that gets reduced to 1 or 2 hours of exercise work. There are 3 English (native) and 8 French speaking people  on board and it seems that I’ve taken the role as a translator. The commands by the captain and first mate are given in French. It makes it a bit tiring because neither of both are my native language which means I regularly translate these in my head in 3 different languages. It’s especially difficult when not given the time to do that and people are just shouting what to do in general. 

          Who broke the boom?

          After 5 days of sailing I get up in the morning about to start my shift. The captain says, lets jibe (changing the direction of the sails). He yells to the people what they have to do and so we all do. Being at the helm, he gets a nice overview of what we are doing on the boat. One lady is winching the main sail and finds it very hard to do. There is something wrong, but the captain yells to hurry (nobody knows why we should hurry) and another guy jumps in to help. With 2 people they are winching hard on instruction, until BANG… The boom (horizontal part of the mast) breaks. A crazy sight to see and I think, fuck, it’s over. We have a big problem. The captain ended blaming the crew, which still frustrates me for not taking any responsibility. In the end we were still able to sail to Cape Verde to get it fixed. It ook 4 days to fix it in Cape Verde. For me a nice break from the sailboat but we still needed to do the crossing.

          • oops
          • playing football with the locals
          • training in Cape Verde

          The big blue

          The weather got a lot warmer from Cape Verde and the whole crossing was getting harder on me. We had some good winds, but after a while they dropped. So it became even harder and hotter. Sleeping is very hard, with 3 in a cabin an almost no ventilation. Regularly I try to find a place in the sail locker (which stinks from the moist) or at night on deck. We’re all in the same situation and mentally it was hitting me hard to be for such a long time on a boat. Dustin, who’s father worked for years on boats, told him once “boats are like prisons you can drown on”. To me it really felt like that. I get a big sense of freedom from my bike and climbing mountains. And I understand people get the exact same feeling on boats, but not me.

          • getting a sea bucket wash from Dustin
          • trying to find shade under the main sail

          Because of the low winds from time to time, the captain decides to motor parts of it. I think it’s sad, but as I explained in a previous post, this is a plan B where I didn’t have the luxury to take too long to decide on things and still better and more adventurous than flying to Denali. When we are all sick of being in this situation Aurore gets the best idea. Let’s just all turn things off and have a swim in the ocean. So we did and that was an amazing feeling, surrounded only by water and cooling off in it (I have a video of it which I couldn’t upload here with limited internet, but check my social media for that 😉 ).

          • thanks to the fishing crew for the amazing fish!
          • captain pancake at work
          • Dustin trying to save the bad carrots

          Land ahoy

          Finally after such a long time on this boat, I’m very happy to see first land. We arrive in saint lucia on the 15th of December. Most people rush off the boat (including me) because we have a big delay in the schedule. So the whole trip ended quite abruptly leaving me with mixed feelings about the whole crossing. In St Lucia I’m meeting up with Alf, the captain of the next boat which I will be crew on until Panama. Feeling hopeful for a better sailing experience we prepare for the next 1000 miles across the Caribbean Sea. 

          • Crossed the Atlantic!

          Sidenotes

          I learned my lessons about this crossing and people wanting to do a similar thing, you can contact me so I can explain the do’s and don’ts for this. I hate to do this, but in my 10 years of this adventure I never experienced something like this. I don’t want to get too deep into this and bashing people or a company, but I’m definitely not the only person with these feelings about it.

          Special thanks to my sponsors who help me make this crazy adventure come true!

        • Ahoy sailor

          Ahoy sailor

          After arriving in Lorient by bicycle it was finally time to start sailing on the 4th of November. I said a last goodbye to friends, family and my girlfriend and hopped on the “Albatros” with 9 other crew and 2 captains. I was a bit nervous about the start because conditions where expected to be quite hard in the Gulf of Biscay and I tend to get pretty seasick… Without too much sailing experience I set off on this boat.

          A rough start

          Before getting on board I took some seasickness pills and hoped for the best. We set the sails and started sailing on quite rough seas. Wind speeds picked up to 25-30 knots (gusts up to 40) with headwinds slowing down our progress. We agreed on doing watches in teams of 3hrs on and 6hrs off, which allows for a lot more rest (compared to my last rowing adventure). These first days on the ocean I was very careful about not getting sick. No reading, trying to be outside as much as possible watching the horizon and taking my pills to prevent sickness. It means I wasn’t eating that much in the first few days, feeling nauseous from the motion of the boat. But, to my great surprise I didn’t get too much of it (I only threw up twice). After a 4 days I was even able to cook some food and eat it!

          Learning the hard way

          Sleeping is not very luxurious in some kind of hammock bed, especially the first days, where the boat was hitting those big waves pretty hard. It’s hard to fall asleep when having those loud hits every couple of minutes.

          The sailing itself was a complete new experience to me and I had to learn fast. Luckily there are some experienced people on board who are helping me to understand. The boat is mainly French so using all these terms in another language is making it a lot harder to get the know of it. But I’m grateful to be sailing with such a wonderful team having the patience for me. After a couple of days I’m starting to feel like I’m contributing something on the boat.

          Finding Shelter

          When we almost crossed the Gulf of Biscay we had to find shelter in a port. There was a storm coming up and the captain decided to stay in the North Western part of Spain for a night. I think we were all pretty happy with that decision. It gave us the opportunity to have a good rest, food and a shower. The next day we start sailing again, against the last high winds of the storm, zigzagging our way through.

          But, after this we kinda got stuck in a zone without wind. Because we were on a timed schedule it meant we had to use the motor for that part. We had some extremely calm seas and it sucked to be using the motor. We were on and off the sails several times. I accept that as I’m considering this sailing as a plan B and still want to cross Siberia to Alaska one day. And, at the same time I already rowed to the Canary Islands before.

          After 13 days we finally reached Gran Canaria, here we are restocking and preparing for the Atlantic crossing. I’m happy to have found a good rhythm and trust for the next crossing. I’m starting to enjoy many aspects of sailing, but being not very physically active is hard for me. In the last days I was starting to do daily exercises to get rid of that feeling.

          The big depart

          We are leaving again on the 20th of November to do the big crossing. I’m feeling a lot more confident about the next part. This is part of a rally (ARC) where I think about 30-40 boats are participating in. It’s nice to be a part of it and meet likeminded people. Still, I’m enjoying my time on land for the moment, doing some running and climbing on Gran Canaria. I’m definitely looking forward to arrive in Panama where my bike is waiting for me and my girlfriend will join me cycling to Mexico.

          The next 20 days will be off grid and I’m very curious about this experience! See you on the other side!

        • Planning, failing and planning

          Planning, failing and planning

          It’s been a year that I have been writing on this blog. Not because I’ve done nothing, but mainly because I’ve been making many plans, but they kinda failed to be executed. 

          After my return in Belgium I immediately started preparing for the next mountain: Denali. As the highest mountain of North America it is not easy to get there. After my failed rowing attempt I decided to get back to my original plan: go to Russia and cross Siberia in winter to the Easternmost point. From there I planned to kayak to Alaska and trek to Denali. 

          My preparation consisted of arranging logistics, administration (permits etc), routes, and training. Because I had never skied in my life, I needed to learn that as well. I took some (tour)skiing courses in the Alps with my girlfriend which definitely wasn’t that easy for me. Many falls later (and laughs of her) I’m still not a very good skier….

          But, after some months of preparation the Russians started to invade Ukraine and the whole expedition is paused. Because I don’t want to wait indefinitely for the whole area to be safe to travel, I had a difficult decision to make. 

          There where 2 options to me: 

          1. fly to Alaska and climb Denali, from there cycle down to Aconcagua ( the highest mountain of South America). When the situation would improve (after many years?), I could finish the Belgium Siberia route by human power. 
          2. Cross the ocean by sailboat and cycle/walk to Denali and climb it. Then still finish the Siberia expedition one day when things calm down. 

          Finally, I chose the second option, it is not the easiest or fastest option, but I would feel more comfortable instead of flying in. Sailing is still within the philosophy of the project, but I still feel that one day I would like to cross Siberia in winter. 

          I found a sailing team that I could join from France to Saint Lucia. We would stop at Gran Canaria for some days and continue to the Caribbean. From there I don’t know yet how I will reach the American (Panama) mainland, I’m still searching for a solutions. According to most people I contacted, I would be able to hitch a ride on a boat from there. 

          In Panama (or another American country) I will cycle to Alaska, which will take me about 14.000km in 6 months. Then it’s not finished yet, because I will have to go through Alaska to reach the base of the mountain. This will be a very demanding expedition!

          The 3rd of November, I will start sailing from Lorient. I often get the question about why sailing would be better than rowing and if I will not get seasick on that trip? 

          I’ve been talking to some experienced people and my doctor to see if it would be possible and we found some reasons why the sailing could work out for me:

          • the sailboat (21m)  is much bigger than the 9 m rowboat I was trying to cross the ocean with, so the waves are relatively smaller
          • A sailboat has a keel, the rowboat not, which makes the tilt less aggressive
          • I will not have to row for 13 hours straight. I will have to work on the sailboat, but my safety and that of others is not completely dependent on my seasickness
          • I’m better prepared in the case of seasickness (medication)
          • Sailing is much faster compared to rowing. We planned to row for 3 months non-stop on the ocean. The sailing will take about 40 days in total, which I wil have 20 days non stop  on the ocean. 

          Still, for me the ocean is not my favourite place. I have been rowing for 6 months to Papua and I liked it, but not like climbing mountains. So to be honest, I will be happy to be in Panama where I can continue cycling and climbing mountains. 

          cycling to Lorient and posing in front of the boat I’ll be sailing with

          A couple of weeks ago I already started the journey to Denali by cycling from Belgium to Lorient. It took me a week to get there, on a very nice cycle route through Normandy and Bretagne. Once arrived in Lorient I visited the boat and headed back by bus to Belgium. I did this on my brand new touring bike: vsf fahrradmanufaktur. Very happy to announce this new partnership with this brand of really good touring bikes. I’m currently riding a TX-1200 model and will give some updates about the bike from time to time.

          The reason I had to head back to Belgium is that I needed to guide a group to Kilimanjaro from the 28th of September to the 25th of October. A couple of years ago, Etion asked me to do this and I agreed on that. I was supposed to arrive in Tanzania by bicycle and climb Kilimanjaro myself. As I would already have been there, the group would arrive after my climb and I would guide them up. But because of covid everything got delayed until now. Therefore I had to cycle to Lorient now, guide on the mountain, and head back to Lorient by train after that’s finished. Very busy weeks, but soon I’ll be back on track to the highest mountain of North America! 

          Thanks to my sponsors who help me make this adventure possible:

        • Finding my limits

          Finding my limits

          On the 25th of February Koen, Gijs and I departed from Portimao by rowboat to Miami. After a long wait, the weather predictions finally looked good with the first couple of days high waves and winds, but mainly in the right direction. I knew this crossing would be challenging, especially since I know how easily I get seasick. I know this from the previous expedition to Papua, where I spent 6 months in total to row there. This was mainly island hopping. On the longer crossings I got seasick.

          • Picture by Miguel Titéca

          The first wave

          The first day was going pretty well. Ricardo and Fa are escorting us out of the marina by sailboat and we’re very excited to be crossing the ocean! The first night is hard. We need to cross the shipping lane fast so we continue to row 2 hrs on 1 hr off and of course I’m getting seasick like expected. I was prepared for that and vomited myself through the night. The next couple of days were extremely hard. I didn’t manage to eat or drink properly and as a result got dehydrated and didn’t have much energy to row. During the days I was able to row, but mostly the evening I got so sick that I couldn’t row anymore. Luckily Koen and Gus were there to continue rowing during those nights.

          • Feeling good for now
          • First miles support boat

          Counting calories

          Usually sea sickness can take up to 10 days, with mostly the worst going away after 3 days. After the first 4 or 5 days of vomiting, the weather was good. Not too big of waves and not too much wind. It gave me hope, because it felt like an impossible thing to do for me in those first days. With not too much motion from the waves I was starting to feel better. I was able to eat a full meal from Trek n’ Eat and eat some 4gold energy bars.

          I’m counting my calories and trying to get to 5000 kcal a day, which I never succeeded in. The rowing was going good and the energy came back to me. The second day of calmer weather I was even able to eat 2 full meals. I had hope, just to start vomiting again that same evening. My meals where not digesting properly.

          • showing off the 24hrs ration packs
          • Captain Koen preparing his meal

          For Koen there was some sea sickness in the first days but that gradually got better. Gus aka “iron stomach” never got sick, could still eat a lot and could even read on his e-reader with 5 m waves. Something that made me jealous of course.

          • very calm seas
          • just enjoying this “break”

          The second wave

          After this intermezzo where I felt a bit better I got sick again. Same kind of sickness where I’m barely able to keep anything inside. Including medication. It was hard, but despite that we were still enjoying. That’s what I loved about it. We were on our limits, but we never had tensions and still had a good time! Well most of it… The one thing I wasn’t looking forward to was going to the toilet. Luckily it didn’t happen that much since I didn’t get much food inside of me.

          • Trying to smile while being sick

          Taking a dump goes as follows (right in front of your friend who’s rowing):

          • take wet wipes (bamboo ones) and alcohol gel
          • fill the bucket with sea water
          • try taking off your pants and sit on the bucket
          • take a dump
          • throw your poo and the water overboard
          • take sea water and clean yourself
          • wipe off with a wet wipe and disinfect your hands
          • Koen showing how it’s done

          If this seems okay, try to do it on a choppy sea…

          The next days were up and down with the sea sickness. One time I can eat, I get my hopes up and think I’m getting better. A few hours later everything is going out again. It just doesn’t stop and I’m starting to realise that after 14 days it doesn’t get any better. I’m dehydrated and don’t get enough water and calories in me to row properly. We talk about it as a team and realise this is not safe anymore. From time to time I’m just shaking and my heart rate is not in control. So we decide to divert to Tenerife and go to land. I try to row as much as possible, which mostly works.

          • trying to sleep in a tiny wobbly cabin

          Learning to fail

          From the moment I realise I have to stop I feel very bad. I feel disappointed and feel like I’m disappointing a lot of people. Koen and Gus, sponsors, friends and family… At the same time I knew that stopping was not a choice, it was a clear sign of my body to stop here. Koen and Gus are disappointed, because we will not reach Miami by rowboat. However, they know that seasickness is beyond my control. They were very supportive and realise well enough that I’m not to blame, which I’m very grateful for.

          Overall I’m happy about this expedition, I didn’t reach my goals, but I learned a lot. It’s the first time in my life that my body sais: you can’t do this. So I’m grateful that it’s only now that it’s doing that. I’ve been going to amazing places and doing crazy stuff. That’s what adventure is about, there should be a great possibility to fail. I’m happy to find out what my limits are.

          We stepped on the boat as 3 friends and because of the great teamwork and understanding we got off the boat as 3 better friends. As a team we managed to get to Tenerife without having to resort to a rescue operation. We did inform local authorities and rescue services, mainly to have them stand by in case my situation would deteriorate. Luckily it didn’t. We failed one out of 3 objectives and this was my main one: rowing to Miami. The other 2 objectives: the ocean rowboat Whaleboat 028’s performance and testing the custom engineered power systems and autopilot on board were great successes.

          • The boat did a great job (photo: Miguel Titéca)

          Land sickness

          Arriving on land is a bit weird the first couple of days. Your head is still wobbly so walking is not that easy. On land, I’m still concerned about my failure, but when I call sponsors, friends and family they’re all very supportive. I’m very grateful for that, thank you all for the nice messages, it really means a lot to me!

          Because of this expedition I realised that my body won’t allow me to row an ocean, ever. But the people who know me aren’t surprised that I’m not giving up on the Secutec Seven Summits. New ideas pop into my head, not giving up and being creative is another important part to succeed in this project. It is not sure yet, but I might be crossing the atlantic ocean by sailboat. Which is not completely human powered but the low carbon footprint (only using the wind) of it is still within the philosophy of this project.

          Now we’re in Tenerife, preparing the boat to get it back to Belgium. Once it is going back I’ll be taking a 40 hr ferry to the Spanish mainland and cycle back and taking trains back to Belgium. All this to avoid flying. I could more easily fly out of here, my insurance (thank you very much for the help Lambrecht verzekeringen) would even cover all these expenses, but whenever possible I try not to.

          A very big thank you to my sponsors who make the Secutec Seven Summits possible!

        • Lockdown fun

          Lockdown fun

          A good rest in the Pyrenees gave me the energy to continue to Spain with Steven. During the ride Steven decided not to join me to Portugal because he’ll get into trouble to get back home for work. The covid situation is not exactly great in Spain and Portugal with some lockdowns coming up…

          Spanish winter

          Many regions are closed for non essential travel in Spain and it stresses me out. I have supporting documents from the government and sponsors (shoutout to Secutec!) to prove that this is a professional activity. This means that I should be able to continue my trip to Portugal as being a professional adventurer, but it still worries me.

          The first couple of days are great. Despite that it’s cold I’m enjoying the hills, beautiful views and the sun. I decided to cycle through a national park and be a bit more isolated. Very soon I was caught up in the snow and had to push the bike up the big hill for a couple of hours. I really enjoyed this part, being not surrounded by cars and having the extra adventure of balancing in the snow.

          Plateau phase

          The second part in Spain was terrible where I got to a plateau with nowhere to hide. The headwinds were very strong and the roads always straight making my progress frustratingly slow. Very exhausting. When I heard the news from my rowing friends that they will have some delays arriving here I decided not to exhaust myself too much and take it easy.

          I got sick of this plateau and decided to head to Portugal, where I was hoping for less wind and more protection from trees.

          Portuguese spring

          Entering Portugal was easy, despite the fact a lockdown was in place. Cycling was still allowed so I knew there wouldn’t be problems for me to cross the country. As usual I avoid being inside with people and sleep in my tent or a private room. The great thing about the lockdown is that there aren’t too many cars. Overall I had a very enjoyable ride in Portugal. I get lots of help from people to spend the night safely and I’m enjoying the views! I got to spend a night at Joao and his family. A very nice experience to meet them! They have been travelling by bicycle around the world as a family and I’m just loving their stories.

          • Joao and his family

          By the end of January I arrive in Portimao where we will depart by rowboat to Miami. In Ferragudo Miguel Titeca, a Belgian who heard about our plans, invites us to stay in his hotel (one2seven), thank you very much for that great stay!

          • Arrival in Portimao!
          • The gang’s all here
          • Picture: one2seven

          Getting stuffed

          When Koen and Gus arrive with the van and the boat we start preparing our crossing. It’s not an easy task and takes days. First we get the boat in the water, then we start to unload the van. We have food for 100 days (each person) divided in 24 hrs ration packs. One pack contains 4500 – 5000 kcal. It is a lot of food and not an easy task to fill the boat. It took a couple of days to find the right balance. Besides that we try to eat as much as possible to get some extra weight. The weather to depart is not that great in the first 2 weeks which gives us the opportunity to test the boat and eat lots of pizza and getting stuffed. Once the right weather window pops up it’s all hens on deck to go, very excited to start this rowing phase!!!

          Many thanks to the sponsors who make this project possible!

          https://secutec.eu/
        • Tour de France

          Tour de France

          As planned I left my hometown again for the continuation of the Secutec Seven Summits, on the 3rd of January. This time the goodbye was a bit different as we’re still in a full pandemic. No hugs, no kisses, just a wave goodbye of my beloved friends at the starting place. Still very happy and grateful to have seen these people before leaving.

          Planning mania

          The first 60km my brother and some friends are joining me for the ride. There we have the same awkward goodbye and I’m off by myself. It’s always very strange to suddenly cycle alone again. From now on I’ll be by myself for one month, and social contact will be very limited due to corona. Because of that I have been planning my sleeping places a bit more in advance. Mainly contacting people if I could pitch my tent in their garden. Usually I cycle till the evening and try to find a place to sleep, but this time it’s different.

          Warm nights

          The places I’m sleeping at is in people’s garden and they’re all concerned about my comfort, especially this time of year. Still I’m very well equipped to do winter camping and luckily I’ve got some experience in the cold 😉 . Most families I go to even invite me in their houses to eat or sleep. Which I mostly refuse just to keep them and myself safe from corona. Mostly, because I had the occasion to have a complete place by myself. I’m enjoying the time in my tent a lot. It’s very cosy on those winter nights to read a book from my sleeping bag. Only in the morning it’s a bit harder to get up and get everything ready so I can leave when the day comes. Still the coldest it has been in minus 6°C which is not that extreme.

          Birthday fun

          I had been rushing a bit to the pyrenees because I knew Glenn and Steven would be there waiting for me. I wanted to be there on my birthday so we could have a ride together. Turned out to be a great day going up to Arudy, having pizza on the streets (only take away allowed in France) and then enjoying a beer before going to bed. Again here I have a place for myself which is awesome to sleep in a bed.

          On my rest day (today) I’m visiting Pau again to get a covid test, just to have some extra administration to enter Spain. All negative so I’m good to go again!!

          I want to thank all the people and families I’ve been passing by for their generosity and help during these strange times. I really enjoyed these first 10 days and looking forward to the next part!

          And many thanks to my sponsors to help me in these Secutec Seven Summits!