Welcome to my blog about biking in New Zealand! Note that it's written in Swedish AND English, with the Swedish version first, followed by the English version in italic font. Enjoy your reading!
Som jag namnde i min forra post "Home", sa ar det helt fantastiskt att vara hemma igen. Sverige valkomnade mig och Isaak med sommar, men ocksa med superrolig mountain biking, precis utanfor dorren vid mina foraldrars hus. Det ar harifran jag kommer. Jag vaxte upp har och utforskade stigarna dar ute i skogen, inte pa tva hjul utan pa hastryggen. Efter att ha tillbringat manga ar pa andra sidan jorden sa uppskattar jag valdigt mycket den svenska naturen, aven om Nya Zeelands natur forstas ar helt fantastisk. I Nya Zeeland ar det mycket bush och regnskog, dar den inte skovlats. De svenska skogarna ar glesa, stora och de luktar sa fantastiskt gott av tallar och mossa. Och sa ar de fulla av kantareller. Lyckligtvis ar de ocksa fulla av blabarsris, vilket gor det mjukare att landa nar man ramlar av cykeln. Om det inte ligger en sten och lurar under forstas.
Mountain biking i Svenska skogar (i denna delen av landet) ar annorlunda jamfort med mountain biking i Nya Zeeland. Det ar forstas inte sa bergigt, och bergen ar inte sa hoga, men det ar stenigare och mer rotter. Stigarna pa Alberget bakom mina foraldrars hus ar speciellt steniga eftesom det ar en gammal rullstensas. Det ar en riktig lekpark for mountain bikare dar uppe. Det finns stigar overallt. Jag menar OVERALLT. Och de ar roliga. For mig ar det ett valdigt bra tillfalle att ova pa cykel teknik.
Forra veckan halkade bakhjulet pa min cykel pa en blot sten i en klurig nedforsbacke. Jag forlorade linjen helt och korde totalt stopp i en sten med framhjulet. Jag for i slow motion over framhjulet. Allt gick lojligt sakta. Marken kom narmare och narmare. Jag hann nastan rakna blabaren. Jag landade supermjukt i blabarsriset. Hmm eller... det kandes mjukt till en borjan. Det maste ha varit en sten under det fluffiga, mjuka blabarsriset for jag insag senare att jag hade fatt ett blamarke som tackte hela benet pa baksidan och ett stort rivmarke. Det ar kvar en vecka senare, men ar mera gulaktigt. En mountain bikare far rakna med att offra snygga sommarben for att ha lite roligt.
Det ar bara en sak jag angrar. Jag skulle ha tagit min cykel med mig fran Nya Zeeland. Jag saknar verkligen min fulldampning och ordentliga bromsar, men 26 tums hjulen faktiskt funkar riktigt bra i den har terrangen. Om nagon har erfarenhet av att ta med cykel pa flyg sa skulle jag garna vilja veta mer om hur det ar.
As I mentioned in my previous post, "Home", it's fantastic to be home. Sweden welcomed me and Isaak with summer, but also with very good mountain biking, right on the doorstep of my parents house. This is where I come from. I grew up exploring those trails, not from two wheels, but from a horse back. The forest in Sweden is sparse, vast, smells sooooo good of pine trees and mosses and it's full of chantarelles. Luckily it's also full of blueberry bush, which makes the landing softer when you fall off the bike. Unless there's a rock lurking underneath.
Mountain biking in Swedish forests (in this part of the country) is different from mountain biking in New Zealand. It's not as hilly and mountainous, but it's rockier and have more roots. The trails on Alberget (the Al mountain) behind my parents house are particularly rocky, since there is an esker, a trace from the retreat of the inland-ice that covered the the area some 15 000 years ago. This area is a playground. There are trails everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE. And they are fun as. For me, it is a great opportunity to practice my biking skills.
The other day the rear wheel of my bike slipped on a wet rock in a tricky down hill, I completely lost the line and ended up to a stop on a rock with the front wheel. I flew in slow motion over the front wheel. Everything went so slow. The ground came closer and closer, very slowly, I could almost count the blueberries. I ended up softly in the blueberry bush. Or, it felt soft to start with. There must have been a rock under that soft, fluffy, inviting blueberry bush because I realized later that I had a bruise that covered pretty much the whole back of my leg, and it's still there a week later, now more yellowish. A mountain biker must sometimes sacrifice handsome summer legs for a bit of fun.
I do regret one thing. I should have brought my bike from New Zealand. Wow how I wish that I had my full suspension and descent breaks, although 26 wheels work pretty well in this terrain. If anyone has experience of taking bikes on flights, I'd be happy to hear about it.
Som jag namnde i min forra post "Home", sa ar det helt fantastiskt att vara hemma igen. Sverige valkomnade mig och Isaak med sommar, men ocksa med superrolig mountain biking, precis utanfor dorren vid mina foraldrars hus. Det ar harifran jag kommer. Jag vaxte upp har och utforskade stigarna dar ute i skogen, inte pa tva hjul utan pa hastryggen. Efter att ha tillbringat manga ar pa andra sidan jorden sa uppskattar jag valdigt mycket den svenska naturen, aven om Nya Zeelands natur forstas ar helt fantastisk. I Nya Zeeland ar det mycket bush och regnskog, dar den inte skovlats. De svenska skogarna ar glesa, stora och de luktar sa fantastiskt gott av tallar och mossa. Och sa ar de fulla av kantareller. Lyckligtvis ar de ocksa fulla av blabarsris, vilket gor det mjukare att landa nar man ramlar av cykeln. Om det inte ligger en sten och lurar under forstas.
Mountain biking i Svenska skogar (i denna delen av landet) ar annorlunda jamfort med mountain biking i Nya Zeeland. Det ar forstas inte sa bergigt, och bergen ar inte sa hoga, men det ar stenigare och mer rotter. Stigarna pa Alberget bakom mina foraldrars hus ar speciellt steniga eftesom det ar en gammal rullstensas. Det ar en riktig lekpark for mountain bikare dar uppe. Det finns stigar overallt. Jag menar OVERALLT. Och de ar roliga. For mig ar det ett valdigt bra tillfalle att ova pa cykel teknik.
Forra veckan halkade bakhjulet pa min cykel pa en blot sten i en klurig nedforsbacke. Jag forlorade linjen helt och korde totalt stopp i en sten med framhjulet. Jag for i slow motion over framhjulet. Allt gick lojligt sakta. Marken kom narmare och narmare. Jag hann nastan rakna blabaren. Jag landade supermjukt i blabarsriset. Hmm eller... det kandes mjukt till en borjan. Det maste ha varit en sten under det fluffiga, mjuka blabarsriset for jag insag senare att jag hade fatt ett blamarke som tackte hela benet pa baksidan och ett stort rivmarke. Det ar kvar en vecka senare, men ar mera gulaktigt. En mountain bikare far rakna med att offra snygga sommarben for att ha lite roligt.
Det ar bara en sak jag angrar. Jag skulle ha tagit min cykel med mig fran Nya Zeeland. Jag saknar verkligen min fulldampning och ordentliga bromsar, men 26 tums hjulen faktiskt funkar riktigt bra i den har terrangen. Om nagon har erfarenhet av att ta med cykel pa flyg sa skulle jag garna vilja veta mer om hur det ar.
As I mentioned in my previous post, "Home", it's fantastic to be home. Sweden welcomed me and Isaak with summer, but also with very good mountain biking, right on the doorstep of my parents house. This is where I come from. I grew up exploring those trails, not from two wheels, but from a horse back. The forest in Sweden is sparse, vast, smells sooooo good of pine trees and mosses and it's full of chantarelles. Luckily it's also full of blueberry bush, which makes the landing softer when you fall off the bike. Unless there's a rock lurking underneath.
Mountain biking in Swedish forests (in this part of the country) is different from mountain biking in New Zealand. It's not as hilly and mountainous, but it's rockier and have more roots. The trails on Alberget (the Al mountain) behind my parents house are particularly rocky, since there is an esker, a trace from the retreat of the inland-ice that covered the the area some 15 000 years ago. This area is a playground. There are trails everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE. And they are fun as. For me, it is a great opportunity to practice my biking skills.
The other day the rear wheel of my bike slipped on a wet rock in a tricky down hill, I completely lost the line and ended up to a stop on a rock with the front wheel. I flew in slow motion over the front wheel. Everything went so slow. The ground came closer and closer, very slowly, I could almost count the blueberries. I ended up softly in the blueberry bush. Or, it felt soft to start with. There must have been a rock under that soft, fluffy, inviting blueberry bush because I realized later that I had a bruise that covered pretty much the whole back of my leg, and it's still there a week later, now more yellowish. A mountain biker must sometimes sacrifice handsome summer legs for a bit of fun.
I do regret one thing. I should have brought my bike from New Zealand. Wow how I wish that I had my full suspension and descent breaks, although 26 wheels work pretty well in this terrain. If anyone has experience of taking bikes on flights, I'd be happy to hear about it.
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| Kantareller. |
