May 20, 2024

I start packing at 8 a.m., but of course I don’t hit the road until 10. Still, it’s nice to watch the locals coming by early in the morning for a refreshing swim. I just sit there, people-watching for a while—which is actually quite fun. I hear kids playing at the nearby school. What strikes me is that there aren’t any fancy or expensive playground structures. The boys are lugging around tree trunks and building things with them. From where my tent is, I can’t see any girls, so I don’t know what they’re up to—but it wouldn’t surprise me if they’re just as involved.

I take a short detour from the trail to buy some groceries and have to cross the highway. The noise startles me. It feels like all sounds hit me much harder now—after barely three weeks in nature. What will happen to my senses after a whole year out here? I guess I’ll be able to answer that by the end of this journey. I’m curious.

I treat myself to a beer and a warm lunch, which tastes great—but it’s a windy spot by a small lake, and cooking on a spirit burner in the wind is quite the challenge. The flames blow in all directions, and a lot of heat is lost. Plus, it’s not exactly a comfy spot. The sun quickly disappears behind the trees, and with the shade and the wind, it gets chilly fast. So I move on.

I’m fascinated by the fences I keep seeing out here—they’re put together without a single nail! Then comes the hardest part of the journey so far. A poorly maintained section of the trail, with tall grass, endless bumps, and steep grassy hills. But the worst is yet to come: I run into six (!) gates, all built in a V-shape.

The idea is that livestock can’t make the turn through the gate—but neither can my Wheelie. Honestly, even with a big backpack you’d have to take it off and put it back on every time. A real pain in the ass. Fortunately, I manage to slide the Wheelie flat underneath the barbed wire. That’s only possible because the wire isn’t stretched too tight, and sometimes I have to walk a bit further to find a good spot—off-trail and through rough terrain. It’s a stroke of luck that it works at all, because otherwise I’d have had to unpack and repack everything. I don’t even want to think about it. The most annoying part is that these gates aren’t marked on the map—otherwise, I would’ve taken an alternate route.

On my Komoot app I see a campsite recommended by another hiker, so I head that way. And yes—it’s small, but perfect. I take my second swim of the year to wash off the sweat, then crawl into my sleeping bag fresh and clean, after doing a bit of hand laundry. That makes up for everything.