Most people call me crazy. Well I don’t believe winter cycling is madness and it’s certainly not stupid. It’s just extreme fun in overwhelmingly beautiful landscape. This kind of a trip can end badly for people with certain psychological problems, irresponsible or without reasonable judgment of their own strenght. So you have to be more or less “normal” to do winter expeditions I also believe that alomost every normal, fairly healthy man (who does not necessarily spend half a year on a bicycle) is capable of undertaking such challenges.  However, supervision of an experienced guide is highly recommended. Of course, it’s a difficult a journey. You often spend hours just pushing your wheels through deep snow, or uphill. Add no chance of any external support and you have enterprise several times harder than any trip in Europe, where at any time we can stop for good, cold, Coca Cola. Or beer.

So why to suffer? For those unforgetable, unrepeatable, life-changing experiences. For landscapes so vast you can even imagine. For knowledge of your body, brain and sould that helps you later with everyday struggle. For pure satisfaction. For a goal. For photographs, that intend to pass a fraction of this col beauty to you, sitting in front of your nice, warm and friendly computers.

There are few ways to travel around world’s largest island.  More or less as many as cycling travelleres who have been there. You can try to make a traverese the icecap, which is no fun, boring, and extremely difficult – no one has accually ever done that one bicycle. You can also ride along the frozen coast, which was our original plan. Unfortunately, global warming is speeding up, especially in the Arctic. 2016 winter was the hottest in the history of observation (and eventually 2016 became the warmest year, 2017 is going to be second in line) – there was almost no ice on the shore. We were forced to find another soultion – crossing the mountains, lakes and fjords of the central west coast on the Arctic Circle Trail (ACT).
Off-road riding on snowy mountains is not the same as riding on lake ice. On frozen Baikal lake we could use our old, simple mountain bikes, just equipped with spiked tires, but in Greenland they would be as useful as the raincoat in the Sahara. We chose to test the latest fashion – fatbikes – bicycles with tires at least 4 inches thick.

As long as the snow layer is no more than some 10 centimeters, our machines are moving like little tractors, slowly, but consistently. Here the size does matter – bike with 4.6 inches tires does a bit better than a “mere” four-incher.

Since the invention of fatbikes the route connecting the largest airport in the country – Kangerlussuaq – with the city of Sisimiut,  previously available only for sleds and scooters has become bicycle accessible. The overwhelming majority of those few cyclist who decided to try ACT made their life easier by assistance of dog sleighs or scooters. But I wanted to do it hard way. You don’t really feel the experience without getting close to the edge of your endurance, without sweat, tears and pain. It’s not that we want it. I think we subconsciously need it.

So there we were, pushing heavily loaded wheels, using all, incredibly rich cursing vocabulary of our language. Scooters passing us from time to time didn’t make us feel better. But some of them stopped and welcomed us with hot tee and cookies, and we love cookies! Our bicycles were lightweight – less than 15kg. After the bike comes a sledge, all packed with dry food, camping and photographic equipment, sleeping bags, clothes for every weather and other important stuff. Altogether it’s almost 30 kilograms, which constantly brings us down. Especially when trying to go uphill.

The starting point of our expedition is an airport, the biggest on the island. The settlement around it is inhabited by approx.. 500 people. On the other hand, our goal – Sisimiut – is the real metropolis, the second city of the country. Before we get there, we will come across dozens of lakes and mountains, including famous “killer mountain” of 900m height, which we ride up from the sea level just to return to the same level several hours later, completely exhausted. This is the last obstacle before the town, but we were too tired to go any further, so we put our tent not far from the outskirts. If you can talk of outskirts of such town Well, yes, because this is the place where dogs live. hundreds, maybe thousand of dogs, used to pull sleds. Sound of their howling isn’t what you want to hear for half of the night.

But next day was to be a true nightmare. I believe after such trip a traveler deserves hot shower, warm bed and cold beer. Shockingly, we couldn’t get the latter. The lady at the counter shook her head with sad look and took away our (ridiculously expensive) cans of Tuborg commenting effeminately: “not today.” Unfortunately, the cashier was not gifted with linguistic skills and we had to wait for somebody who would uncover the solution to the riddle of not selling alcohol on Thursday morning. Finally it turned out that it’s forbidden to sell alcohol on Thursday before Easter. And it was Thursday before Easter. In this situation we were forced to find someone to invite us and help to solve the problem of improper celebration of well-done job. Luckily, local Inuits stood up to the task. But I’ll write about it in my next post, if I’ll find time for it someday

You’ll also find this trip in 360 VR technology on my youtube channel if you have VR 360 headset

Well, it is.

But if it wasn’t for this staggering beauty, I would advise everyone to stay as away as possible from this country – and not because of the risk of volcanic eruptions, crazy weather, and rocket high prices.

Before I start Complaining, here’s a movie I made there – undoubtly one of the most epic sceneries on Earth.

I am accustomed that being in the wild brings you only good emotions. Smell of freshly mown grass,gentle feel of tree bark, lazy cigarettte with a mountain view, bike ride along the river, bathing in the waterfalls, etc. After each excursion I return with my internal batteries charged, happy like a fool. Ready to spend next couple of weeks looking just at my comp or outside of the window with quite unatractive neighbourhod view in the centre of Poznan.

Nope. That’s not a view from my window

In Iceland, the landscapes and places are often spectacular, but here I found an ugly trait in myself – selfishness. I would like to have them only for myself, maybe also for those few good people who came here with me. I would even tolerate couple of others who had struggled to get here to enjoy the beauty of Nature. I would eagerly push off the cliff all those tourists who jump in just for a moment, only to turn their butts against the site and make quick, sweet selfie.

Well I know it’s bad to think so. After all, everyone has the right to make a tour according to his own liking, and I know that for for all those other tourists the undesirable element is me. Fortunately, the Icelanders are on my side. The rapid tourist boom (almost 500% in the past 7 years) has virtually eliminated unemployment, ended the severe economic crisis following the collapse of the economy in 2008 (tourism is currently 33.9% of GDP*) and significantly boosted the island’s ego. Before they noticed, there was 7 times more tourists than locals, and 10% of the permanent population of the country is now foreigners (Poles on the first place, of course – more than 10k). I wrote recently about the consequences, Icelanders began to wonder if and how they should build a dam on this tourist river. And if they’re good at building anything, that are dams. They’re nuts, just like beavers, building more and more hydropower plants for growing aluminum smelter industry – the third most important sector of their economy.

Government secret plan

How to eat a cake and have a cake? Here’s what the government is all about. They didn’t manage to introduce so-called “nature pass”, a general entrance fee to all attractions. More and more owners of the wonders of nature are thinking about introducing their own fees. You have to know that vast majority of waterfalls, rivers and even volcanoes have their owners. At least somebody owns the land on which they are located / through which they flow. All “farmers” are descendants of Vikings, and their property titles sometimes count for almost a thousand years. Everyone is tempted to make a little (or rather quite a lot) money, but “free passage” tradition is equally holy. Or it used to be. The first bastions have already fallen away – for couple of years now you have to pay to seeKerith crater, and this year they want to introduce fees at Iceland most powerful waterfall Dettifoss.

However, the government managed to raise the VAT rate for travel services from 11 to 22.5% (starting July 2018), so it should increase the prices of hostels and tours. But the big plan is to create something like entrance tax,  sort of a visa for every tourist. The locals told us it will be introduced in 2019, but in English-speaking internet I have not found any confirmation of this information (maybe someone has better sources?). Even if this would lead to a drop in visitors numbers (which is doubtful, considering that they expected to reach 1.5 million tourists by 2020 and they did in 2016), it would be compensated by toll revenue directly to the budget, which all the governments like the most

World conspiracy

Where did the sudden popularity of the “island of ice and fire” come from? Icelanders believe that it is due to the Eyjafjallajökull (I really managed to learn how to pronounce it:D) volcano, which paralyzed air traffic in Europe in 2010 and  gave a free advertisement of the island all over world’s biggest media (on a smaller scale it happened first in 2008 in the wake of the banking crisis. But banks are more complicated than a smoking hole in the ground, so it did not attract such attention of mass audience).

The second reason was the Arab Spring, which was also accidentally exploded in 2010 (Coincidence? Or… diabolical plan of come crazy Icelandic PR agency?) Terrorist attack threat in such popular destinations as Tunisia, Egypt and Turkey has made tourists to start looking for “safer” places.

Thirdly, although it is difficult to say whether it’s the cause or effect of the boom, Iceland (or rather its landscapes) is beloved by Hollywood. An interesting list of Icelandic moments you will find here, though there is no Prometheus opening scene and a stupid, but spectacular scene on the Mývatn Lake from the Fast and the Furious 8. It is probably the most idiotic car chase in history of Bond movies.

Okay, so what is puffinization?

Puffin is a cute, colorful bird which has become a symbol of Iceland. They are truly beautiful, elegant and comic at the same time. Puffins are found on cliffs andon a plate, marinated or smoked. They do not taste like chicken, but like fish. Strange. I didn’t have a chance to try, because as a typical Pole I was eating can food. I explained my cuisine ignorance by a fact that those birds in serious trouble. And not because of the irresponsible gluttony of Icelanders (despite the fact that obesity is a serious problem here), nor the excess numbers of ornithologists who want to peep into the intimate bird’s love scenes. The problem is primarily the climate change that causes ecosystem disturbances. Local press reports that 83% of young puffins died from food shortages this year on the islands of Vestmannaeyjar (the world’s largest puffin colony).

But puffinisation is about a change. Reykjavik’s change of appearance, for instance. The center of the capital was turned into a big market with 1000 kinds of cute plush puffin mascots. I admit that I was tempted by a puffin-shaped hat, but the price has cooled my enthusiasm. In the countryside, half of the farms is now Airbnb. Even gas stations, along with gasoline, oils and all these automotive gear sell mandatory puffin gadgets!

Even more important, however, is the change in perception of the country by foreigners. Icelanders would like to be seen as proud Vikings descendants, a Nordic country of success, a hatchery of world-class artists. Meanwhile, more and more often we forget about the Icelanders, focusing rather on Iceland. Waterfalls, moss, volcanoes, sweet puffins, winds, and even sperm whales in the surrounding ocean. We don’t really think about local, as we don’t see them so often. Americans, Chinese, Poles, French – yes. The Icelanders are as rare as hen’s teeth, so we take for granted clichés heard here and there: they believe in trolls and elves, they party late at night, and all parties look just like in Reykjavik’s 101 movie. They are friendly folks, but better don’t piss them off – several governments and dozens of “banksters” know that, as well as England football team. They were singing nice viking songs during World Cup, and probably that’s why they reached the quarter-finals, which was lovely too. Well, well, such a small but vigorous country. The Icelanders were so happy after winning the match with England that after 9 months hospitals recorded a significant increase in births (in the local conditions it will be several dozens). And Björk, of course. They have Björk and those other bands with strange names. Except Emiliana Torrini Davíðsdóttir. Davíðsdóttir, ha! Did you know that?!

So, we’re all happy about the clichés, not trying to penetrate the Icelandic soul. We do not bother with the problems of young people who can’t afford an apartment despite the development boom. Anyone with a room, couch or a floor puts it on airbnb, and tourists book them at least half a year in advance. Flats are goldmines now, but their prices soared (as did the Icelandic crown) so high that only few can afford it. Big profits from tourism are not shared equally, and if you are a simple link in touristic chain, you can forget about savings. But who would like to get into Icelandic problems? Anyway, what are these problems compared to Europe?

If you’re not in the mood to dive into icelandic problems that’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with that. Just remember that you are trapped in a naive, puffin paradise. In a plush cage.

Do you have something interesting to add? I would love to listen. If you are pissed because the text was about something completely different tahn you expected, feel free to ease your anger in the comment

Nice chart offered by wikipedia. Looks pretty good, right? If you look at the source, it turns out that it’s from 2015, when tourists were “only” 1.26 million, which is a whole million less than they expect in 2017. So imagine this curve updated to the current state.

For those interested – here’s link to the report on the state of tourism (May 2016). A lot of curious and interesting graphs, from which we will find eg that in April is 60% less tourists than in July and August.

*5% GDP according toWikipedia, which seems totally impossible. The number above is taken from the World Travel and Tourism Council report, which represents 7% of direct contribution to GDP in 2016 and projects 8% in 2017, while the overall contribution of tourism and travel to the economy (also indirectly) is stunning 33.9%.

PS

I didn’t invent term “puffinisation”. I found it here.

Another from the F.A.Q. – Couldn’t you go somewhere, where it’s warm? Mallorca, for example??

Well, I would recommend to read article “ciepło” (not translated into English), which I wrote long time ago, in 2007 Montenegro. One year later I went to Mongolia, where it also was warm enough, but the highest temperature record came in 2009 along with 3000km trip to Athens. Riding from 6 to 11 am and then 18 to 23 is really quite annoying. But what can you do if during the day temperature rises over 40ºC? It’s also hard to find a piece of land for siesta in Greece- everywhere some spikes, giant spiders, dead turtles. Or in Albania – among waste. It was then, when we agreed with my friend Wicher, next trip will be to polar circle. And so we did. In summer on the Perisan Gulf I discovered temperatures around 50ºC and I really do not recommend that to anybody. That’s when it came to me, – why not go to Syberia, making year’s temperature difference of 90ºC.

So, that’s the reason why we chose cold Syberia and Baikal.

28 th February, we get off the cosy train to set our feet on a snowy platform in Severobaikalsk. Giant clock on the station building announces triumphally – 19ºC. Welcome to Syberia.  And it’s only 3pm – the warmest time of the day. We put on our best clothes, balaclavas, thickest gloves, and whatever we got there. But it’s still freaking cold. We revolve around the city for few hours, looking for sim card, Internet, shop, hairdresser (sic!:)). Finally we evacuate to Nizneangarsk, 25 km North, hoping to find warm shelter at Marina Aleksandrovna’s, friend of a friend from a train. But Marina „ne beryot trubky”, which means “doesn’t answer the phone”. With each unsucessfull call we get more and more depressed, losing hope for warm first night at Baikal. Its getting late. At 8pm we’re in Nizneangarsk, –30ºC on termometres, no sign of anybody on the streets.

– Should we can stand next to the shop, as usual, and pretend we’re frozen cyclist? – suggests Wicher.

Nice idea, but hard to accomplish. It is already 8pm, it’s – 30ºC, so guess what, there’s no living soul around. The village shop is closed. Oh my, does it mean they also don’t like frost here?

Well, all that’s left is to ride reluctantly to the most northern side of the lake and put our tent there.

So we ride. Slowly, veeery slowly. Wicher grumbles that he doesn’t feel his fingers. And I’m mad on my moustache. Carefully cultivated for 2 weeks, it was supposed to protect me from the cold, but instead it’s a great place for snots and snow, making me feel even colder.

It’s not how we imagined the beggining, it’s not how it was supposed to end! Quick glance on the termometre doesn’t leave any hope. – 32ºC already.

And that’s when Sasha and Tanya flew straight down from heaven to save us.

– Where do you sleep? In a tent, you say? You’re out of your mind? You’re going with us!

So, first night we were lucky. In fact we liked it so much at Sasha and Tanya’s that we stayed there for 2 days, wondering, how to push away the moment we would really start our journey.

But it turned out we were lucky after all. First night after riding on ice we slept in a scrubby hut with a stove that produced more smoke than old locomotive. Let it smoke, maybe we won’t suffocate, as long as it’s much warmer than outside we like it here. The following day I broke handlebar, but – happiness in misfortune – I managed to push my broken bicycle to another hut. 

Only after a week we were forced to set our tent on ice for the first time. We wanted to get as close as possible to crevasse – paradoxically it’s the safest place, the ice won’t break for the second time just next to old crevasse. Unfortunatelly, no crevasses today. All covered by treacherous snow. And the sun is setting down, temperature falling with every minute.

Maybe here? – I show the place 5 – 4 meters from our path, all covered by snow, the place that doesn’t differ in any detail from billion others snowy places on the lake. Thermometer shows – 20ºC. We put up the tent and throw our bags inside. Meanwhile it’s already – 25ºC. Quick piss and jump into the sleeping bag marks the happiest moment of the day, but what the hell? -30ºC ???. Wicher is cooking.

And coooooking.

Aaaand coooooking.

It takes some time to melt snow on our shitty stove.

Meanwhile Baikal is cracking angrily somewhere below us. Creaks, Squeaks. Crunches. From time to time you can feel slight shake – that may be just another earthqake – there are over 2000 of them each year, which means several a day.

– Ready! I see bubbles! – he screams after an hour.
– Let’s assume, it’s boiling – I mumble half-asleep.

Our food for astronauts just a minute after adding water becomes cold, yuck. It’s -35ºC. And we still need to boil snow for tea. „Ha, ha, I’m so happy my turn to boil will be only in the morning”, I think to myself, but just a minute later God punishes me for such selfish thoughts – I have to go to pee…

Well, how do you cope with physiological needs in such cold? „Just the same, only much faster” – once said famous Polish polar Marek Kaminski. I jump back into sleeping back, remembering his words. We don’t take off nor the pants, nor jacket, down jacket goes under the back, wet socks inside, I put on two new, dry pairs, and add warm (from staying in my perineum) down gloves. A cap covers the eyes, nose is hidden deep down in the sleeping bag.