Death Monkey 2006: The Ultimate Rally: Archive

Bob: First fillup

We're preparing to leave the dusts of Stockholm behind and head southwest to Huddinge.

Skoll: On the road

Sun is shining, my hangover is fading slowly and we have put already 50 km behind us. The trip couldn't have started better.

Bob: Periodic maintenance

We stopped in Södertälje to give the bikes the required running-in maintenance.

Skoll: First day

The first day is behind us. We did the first service for the bikes and managed to drive more than we planned - over 200 km. Riding the small bikes doesn't feel nearly as bad as I would have expected. And the highwaybars work also pretty well.

The bikes are also doing good. Downhill I managed to squeeze 59 km/h out of my Monkey - and we haven't even tuned them. The tools that came with the bikes didn't endure that well - while trying to open the oil caps we broke all three size 17 wrenches.

The sun has been shining throughout the day. I think I have burnt my face already. Maybe tomorrow I should use sunlotion. Now we are in a nice inn in Norrköping enjoying our well earned beers to wash down the dust.

Skoll: Evening in Norrköping

Norrköping turned out to be your usual smalltown with lots of pizzerias and tuned cars. The nightlife however was totally dead. After dinner our heroic trio ended up in the inn drinking beer and watching football.

Skoll: Bob goes Igor

Yesterday while driving Bob got stung to eyebrow by a wasp. When Joe suggested that we get some antidote, Bob heroically replied that he's not allergic so no need. Here you see the result.

Joe's funny fact: Did you know, that by drinking honey of the killer bees, you can get very, very drunk?

Bob: Coffee at the SmallOne mansion

We stopped at Linköping to have a cup of heart-disruptingly strong Ethiopian coffee with SmallOne, the local Midgardian.

Bob: A day on the open road

We had the first real riding day today, getting three hundred kilometers behind us. That combined to yesterday means we've covered one seventh of the trip.

Joe: Sweden

If I had visited any little town in Sweden or anywhere, I would have been amazed of the similarities between Värnamo and Wagga Wagga. Both are insignificant, in the middle of nowhere and definately not worth visiting.

Btw, "PIIKKAA LÄSKIÄ" score is still 0-0-0.

Skoll: A day of Swedish countryside

Damn these Monkeys are slow! We have ridden practically the whole day and covered only a bit more than 300 km. (That again Joe got about 70 km/h out of his Monkey after a long downhill. I didn't dare go faster than 65 km/h. And let me tell you - I really missed my mom.) Surprisingly though nobody is complaining. I'm really surprised how comfortable the Monkey is to ride.

Now we are enjoying some springrolls and beer in the only restaurant that's open in Värnamo (well, not actually open. By the book the restaurant closed an hour ago but they're still serving).

Bob: Still a long way to go

Lunch break in Markaryd gave us a scary moment of truth in the form of a wall map.

We spent the morning doing maintence, and now the twisty small roads and surrounding woods and cows zoom past us at brisker pace than expected. Thanks to the Ford shop in Värnamo for tools and assistance!

Skoll: With flies in our teeth we ride

How do you recognise a happy motorist? From the flies in his teeth.

My feeling about the whole trip is improving day by day. I was pretty sceptic about the driving before the trip. I had no previous Monkey experience and several Monkey veterans claimed that after 50 km you will be stiff as... as a really stiff thing. Were they ever wrong. After 900 km my back is fine, my legs are fine, I've got no aching muscle wheresoever. The weather has been excellent - it has been a pure joy to ride. And what's nice about the slowness of the Monkies compared to a real bike is that you get to appreciate the scenery in a whole new way.

Today we covered some 270 km and arrived in Copenhagen. Tomorrow Germany. Stay tuned.

Joe's fun fact: Did you know that by sunburning 75% of your skin, you may be considered as a indian on a warpath and be shot in the state of Alabama?

Bob: Germany, Germany

Today we were finally able to leave Scandinavia behind and enter Europe proper via the classic Puttgarden ferry.

Since then we've been slowly working our way towards the Elbe riding on small 'B' roads. Traveling at low speeds totally transforms the landscape. We've seen more of Germany and Denmark today than on a dozen earlier, autobahn-oriented trips.

Joe: Hangover drive

Because someone had to fight against consept of aging, todays drive was defined by a major hangover. Additionally lack of sleep somehow stole the enjoyment of traveling.

But hey, if you end up in Copenhagen, you'll just have to get yourself up and going. Besides, already tomorrow we'll get to Nederland, where drinking will unavoidably turn into secondary way of getting wasted.

Btw. Did you know, that danish word "kebab" implies to the urge to get anal penetration?

Bob: Over the Elbe and far away

After the morning's maintenance work we crossed Elbe at Hamburg and pushed deeper into Germany towards Bremen.

On the road we encountered another crazy mopedist. The guy was riding a Honda Dax, the Monkey's big brother, and had been doing so for 29000 miles over the decades.

Skoll: Monkey maintenance 101

For a couple of days I have been a bit worried about our bikes. Several new sounds have emerged and at worst my Monkey has consumed 50% more gas than Bobs. In addition we should have checked and propably adjusted valve clearance after 300 km and we had done several times that distance already.

This morning after 1300 km we finally adjusted the valve clearance. There was nothing to it really. After opening all the caps on the engine we found where it's done and doing the adjustment was easy enough after all the practice with my dear Ural. While it improved the general sound of the bike, it did nothing to the gas consumption. For that, as well as for one of the extra sounds, I found another source - my front wheel brakes are partly dragging constantly. Any ideas on how to adjust the brakes are much appreciated. Or I can simly wait until they wear out - 4000 km ought to do that.

Other maintenance that needs to be done regularly is changing the oils every 1000 km (approximately three days), lubricating the chains every day and tightening the chains about every second day. I think by now we should also change the spark plug (I really can't be bothered to clean it) but we haven't found suitable ones - not that we really have been looking.

Other than the few odd noises my bike is keeping (or maybe I'm simply paranoid), the Skyteam Monkeys have held up fine - thanks go to our sponsor Motopower in Tampere. That again Pyrenees and the hot sun in Spain are still waiting for us so we'll have to wait und see.

Skoll: Monkey-madness on autobahn

Yesterday the driving changed somewhat. While in Sweden we mainly rode twisty countryside roads with little traffic, in Denmark and even more in Germany we have been riding straight roads or it has been one small town after another with no real border between them. The towns themselves have been nice with beautyful gardens and small idyllic red-roofed houses left and right. But all the traffic and trafficlights slow our going. Still, we have managed to proceed well. Today we covered about 350 km and got to Neatherlands. Driving through Hamburg was a bit of an adventure. We ended up accidentally on a freeway for a couple of kilometers and I can tell you it was a scary experience with trucks passing us left and right over twice our speed.

So far we have been doing pretty long days. We get up, have a breakfast, usually do some small bike maintenance and hit the road. We have lunch and a couple of gas stopps as we go and when we finally call it a day it's late evening. There's usually some two to three hours to eat something and get a couple of beers before going to sleep.

But I'm not complaining. What started out as the stupidest thing I have ever done turned pretty soon to be one of the best vacations I have had - at least so far. The weather is still excellent although today was actually a bit too hot - over 30 degrees. I was driving in T-shirt and shorts and still sweating all the time. Compared to a motorbike vacation, yes we have spent a lot more time on the road and less time visiting the towns and cities, but as the going is that much slower it's not as exhausting. And once again I have to tell you how much I have enjoyed riding the Monkey. You feel the road and see the surroundings in a way you can't experience on any other vehicle. Hmm, maybe I should keep my Blue Devil after the trip...

Now we are in a small countryside familyhotel in Neatherlands, just near the border. Outside is raining, but our Monkies are in a bikeshelter. This is the first rain we have had during the trip. We got a few drops while driving but luckily the real rain started only after we had checked in.

That's all for tonight boys and girls. Stay tuned.

Bob: Holland is slow

Unlike Germany, Netherlands doesn't seem to have a clear moped policy. This means we've spent the morning working our way southwest on roads, bike paths and cow pastures. Still some hours to go before Amsterdam.

As a reminder, Monkeys will be live on Ylex around 16:20 finnish time.

Skoll: Do Monkeys dream of mechanical sheep?

God created man. And man created Monkey. When God created man he created them to experience the existence and to know all that is good. But when man created Monkey, was he consious of his actions? Did he understand the essence of the Monkey or did he simply create a toy for his mundane amusement?

These are the questions that have been troubling me during the past couple of days when we have been riding. What is my role is this divine comedy? I have been riding this beautyful beast of steel and taken it for granted but what right do I have to demand anything from it? This I have realized: if the Monkey doesn't want to take me to Gibraltar, it wont. And I am thankful of every kilometer the Monkey deems me worthy.

Couple of hours ago we arrived in Amsterdam where we are planning to spend also tomorrow. Riding in Holland has again been different. First of all you can't generally drive on the normal roads but have to use sidewalks with bikes. The area near German border was covered by villages and small towns and the sidewalks didn't always go to the same direction as the roads. We ended up several times in the middle of potato fields and pastures. Once we got to Zwolle it changed. The roads went in a straight line kilometers upon kilometers and were accompanied by asphalted sidewalks.

In Amsterdam we - or to be exact only me - encountered the police for the second time (first time was in Copenhagen where two friendly officers asked what kind of bikes are we riding). We were driving in city center during the rush hour. With mopeds you should drive on the right side of the road but as the traffic moved slowly and there was nowhere to go, I drove in the middle of the road. The car behind me didn't like that and tried to pass me several times. When he started honking I showed some international handsigns. Yup, that was a civil police. He pulled over and we had quick chat about the respect of authority and moped driving laws.

Skoll: Monkeyless in Amsterdam

I miss my Monkey.

Joe: Amsterdamned

As all of us, Skoll was affected by the zoological wonder last night. To remember the wanking monkey of Amsterdam, he bought cute and cuddly toy to amuse him in the dark moments of night.

Bob: In touch with mother earth

Another day of really slow going through Netherlands. We also had the first minor accident today as Joe's monkey slipped on dead leaves in a curve, sending him to hug gravel.

Luckily there wasn't much speed and both Joe and the bike were unharmed. We're now having lunch in a small italian family restaurant in Breda and will hopefully reach Belgium soon.

Skoll: Monkey Odyssey 2006

By reading these odd blogs and following our coordinates I don't think you truly grasp the real nature of our journey. In seven driving days we have covered 2040 km. This has taken us nearer to Gibraltar some 1250 km. The distance is still 1822 km which means over 3000 km of driving. Today we woke at 9 o'clock and checked in to the hotel at Lokeren 12 hours later. We drove practically the whole day and got nearer to Gibraltar about 150 km. Partly todays poor result was caused by practically inexistant signage in Belgium. We did propably two rounds around Antwerpen before we got out from there and were able to continue our ride. Still, at this stage it's clear that our original estimate of two weeks was very optimistic. I'm hoping we'll arrive to Gibraltar around 19th.

Skoll: Mind, Body, Monkey

Couple of days ago I wrote in one of my diary entries about the questions that have been troubling me, about the essence of the Monkey. Today while driving my Monkey I was tired and I dozed off for a moment. I woke some kilometers later, still on the road - my Monkey had taken care of me.

When I woke, I woke with and insight, a revelation which I'm about to share with you. The Monkey is not merely a vehicle, the Monkey is an entity wity a mind of its own. And of a soul. I don't know how I know this, I just do. I hope that before our journey together ends I will learn more about this fascinating being.

I have named my Monkey Lightning. Because it's blue (not because it's fast).

Today we finally got to France. Driving through Holland and Belgium has been in some way the worst part about the trip. There's nothing wrong with the countries themselves, mind you. Belgium especially was pretty nice with all the good beers. But in Holland you couldn't drive on the normal roads and in Belgium signage really sucked. For the most part we used sun to find our way. So our going was frustratingly slow. In France it seems we can once again do pretty good speed.

Joe: Platypus Corps

2500km behind us, probably at least 2500km to go. And the Anzac, god of aboriginals has again started to haunt me.

Did you know, that the worlds first act of war involving bicycles was by the dutch? In the battle of Somme 503 volunteers charged against german trenches causing havoc in the nomans land until the first german machine gunner in sight took care of it.

Bob: Through the fields of Somme

Yesterday was time to leave the excellent beers and abysmal road signs of Belgium behind.

We rode the monkeys in the north of France over a hilly country (slow up, fast down). The route took us through the WW1 battlefields of Somme, the scenery dotted with monuments and vast military graveyards.

In the evening we checked into the Anzac hotel in Amiens and hurried to a park to watch the football finals from a big screen. Unfortunately the expected victory celebrations didn't happen and so we turned in after a couple beers.

Skoll: Monkeys-la-Ville

Today riding has been good. A moment ago we had a lunch of steak and wine in a small village and now we are waiting for the phone interview in Mantes-la-Ville.

Skoll: The three Monkeyteers

Driving through the fields and valleys of France reminded me of D'Artagnan and the three musketeers - riding across the country on a quest to save the king. So are we on a quest - a quest to see the only wild monkies in Europe.

Today it was proved that my Monkey is the slowest one. On even ground Lightning is doing ok, but up hill it's clearly slower than the other Monkies. My previous theory about the dragging front brake didn't hold. Our new semi-educated guess is the carburator. There's one thing that supports this theory. Today we changed the spark plugs. After 60 km I compared mine and Bob's. Bob's was practically clean while mine was already completely black. None of us has any experience about adjusting carburators but how hard can it be? Well, we'll see.

As we hoped, France has indeed been a lot faster to drive than Holland and Belgium were. We had our longest driving day today - 390 km and thanks to the straight roads we got closer to Gibraltar about 300 km. With this speed we should be in Spain in two days.

The downside of the good roads is that we are not the only ones driving them. The last 130 km today were interesting to say the least. At Chartres we took N10 to Tours. The road was crowded by trucks. Some of them passed us with less than half a meter between them and our bikes. Luckily we are all still alive.

Bob: Wine tasting, Monkey style

We arrived yesterday in Bordeaux and decided to stay for a day to sample local wines and oysters.

However, in the morning we found out all wine tours were booked, and so we had to hit the bars and make a tour of our own.

Tomorrow we'll cross the Pyrenees.

Bob: Regarding acceptable losses

Our house rule on prior adventures has been that person losses of 25% are acceptable. For practical purposes we upped that ratio for this trip to one third.

This principle was taken into action today when Skoll lost his rear tyre and had to stay in Bordeaux to make repairs. As the remaining duo sped south towards Bayonne, Skoll was seen drifting to a restaurant serving frog legs.

There is still hope he'll get the Lightning running and will catch us in Pamplona.

In the other news, the Monkey broadcast on Ylex is scheduled for tomorrow instead of today in order to make reportage from the San Fermin festival.

Skoll: Essence of the Monkey

I'm writing this in an internet cafe in Bordequx. As you can read from Bob's journal, the rear tyre on my Monkey is busted. The bike is now at a repair shop and they promised it will be fixed later today. If everything goes well, I'll meet the guys in Pamplona. The reason I haven't written anything else during the past couple of days is that I haven't been able to create a 3G connection in Bordeaux.

Tuesday morning started with another round of Spank the Monkey played by the trucks on N10. (In this game we were the ball and the trucks the players.) In addition we once again accidentally ended up on a freeway so all in all it was an exciting morning. But, as I am writing this you reading, we survived once again.

The scenery for most of the day consisted of endless fields of sunflowers. We arrived in Bordeaux late in the evening and after a couple of glasses of wine decided that this would be a good place to rest for a day. Yesterday was mainly spent by tasting wines in different restaurants and by looking for oysters, frog legs and snails. The frogs and snails were actually pretty good, but it was a battle to get the oysters down.

During the long ride on Tuesday I got one step closer to the real essence of the Monkey. What is the essence of the Monkey, you might ask. What is its purpose, the reason for its existence?

The purpose of the Monkey is to drive. That is the sole reason for its existence. That is why it has born into this world and that is what it must do. By riding a Monkey you help it to fulfill its purpose and by that help it to get to the next level of evolution - become a motorcycle. Eventually it will reach nirvana and get out from the cycle of rebirth.

By denying the Monkey its purpose, you condemn it to Monkey hell. There the roads are twisty, the sun is always shining and the girls are young, but everybody is riding a scooter - that's what a Monkey hell is like. There the suffering Monkeys wait for an angel to descend and drive them to salvation. I am that angel! And I bring salvation to all the Monkeys!

Bob: Pyrenesian mountain monkeys

We left Bordeaux late in the morning and entered the Basque country. Going up the mountain passes was quite taxing for the little bikes. We got used to churning uphill at about 30km/h, and then zooming down at 70km/h on neutral.

The highest points went inside clouds, and finally we called it a day in a small mountain town on the Spanish side of the border. We checked into a medieval monastery that had been renovated into a really nice hotel.

The plan is to start around 4am to make it to the last encierro of the San Fermin festival. Remains to be seen if Skoll can catch us before that.

Joe's bike has developed an alarming leak into the gas tank. Will be interesting whether he still has fuel tomorrow.

Skoll: Dr. Strangelove or how I learned to love the Monkey

The start of our journey together with Lightning was somewhat akward. We had only met a couple of days earlier so we didn't practically know each other and we had nothing really in common. We only knew we had a long drive together in front of us. And to tell you the truth, I didn't even care to get to know her - she was a Monkey after all and I was more than happy with my Triumph waiting at home.

The riding itself was good, yes, but there was nothing more to it. It was just a physical act. The first couple of days both of us minded our own business. But when you are on a journey like this, with only each other for company, you are bound to learn something about your companion. So I started to listen the sound of her engine. Do some accelerating and breaking and see how she reacted. Take her to the twists and turns and really feel her. At the same time I allowed her to take me where she wanted.

By the time we got to Denmark, we were having a blast! Still, I didn't think anything more could come out of it. I was not going to dump my Triumph no matter how good the riding was. The first thought of doubt entered my mind when we were in Amsterdam when I noticed I was thinking more about Lightning than Triumph.

The following days were full of long riding, but we simply couldn't get enough of it. A couple of liters of gas was all we needed. And it wasn't only the riding I was enjoying, it was everything about her - the way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she sounded.

Now for the past couple of days I have been seriously thinking about what I really want from my life. Endless hours of driving together like this connects you in a way nothing else can connect. Either way, making a decision will be very hard.

As promised, at five o'clock this afternoon my Monkey was ready to hit the road again. Getting out of Bordeaux wasn't as easy as I would have thought. Finally when I was out of the city and on the correct road, I got an sms from Bob saying they didn't take the coast route they initially planned but another one through Mont-de-Marzand and Orthez. I decided to change to that route also.

When I was finally on the correct-correct road, I noticed I was low on gas. As the hour was getting late, there were no gas stations open along my route. The only cold station nearby was 15 km off route, but that was my only option. About 1 km before the gas station I run out of gas. Luckily the area was pretty even so pushing the Monkey wasn't hard. When I got the the station, I had another challenge in front of me - in this development country they don't accept international credit cards on cold stations, only local bank cards. Soon however a local came to the station to get some gas and I was able to pay him cash to fill up my tank.

Now I'm in a hotel in a small French village named Brocas, with about 200 km left to go to Pamplona. I will miss the bull run, but I was there a couple of years ago so it's not that big of a loss.

Bob: Encierro

Sometimes, every monkey has to run.

Bob: The bulls have run

...And the monkeys with them. We crossed the rest of the misty pyrenees in moonlight and hooked up with fellow Finns Johnny and Larry-Boy in order to make the run.

As this was the last day of the feria there was plenty of space to run and our heroes were able to reach the arena. When the last bulls came in doors were closed and some bulls unleashed into the crowd.

One of the bulls took the red Death Monkey logo in my vest badly, and soon I was sent flying by the horns. Luckily the bull was distracted by the other runners and I was saved from getting trampled. As the souvenir I walked away with a limp.

All in all, quite a satisfying bull run, even though it demonstrated I'm not much of a matador. Now we'll chill out in a park until the Blue Monkey arrives.

Bob: Mystery of the Missing Monkey

We woke up this morning in order to start the race, only to find that the thieves of Pamplona had kept themselves busy: Skoll's monkey had been stolen after a failed attempt at stealing mine.

The only thing remaining of the bike was the ignition lock lying in the gutter.

Now Joe and I will start the ride to Gibraltar and Skoll will most likely fly home to revitalize his relationship with his Triumph.

Beats having underwear stolen like happened on the previous trip to San Fermin.

Skoll: Clockwork Monkey

The moment you find somebody to connect with, somebody who understands you, somebody who you simply enjoy being with, they leave you. His name was propably Pablo or Juan. I'm sure he was tall and dark. Don't you understand that the only thing he has in mind is to ride you, have some fun, and then dump you like a broken toy. Still you left with him. Why?

So in other words my Monkey was stolen. We had parked all three of them in the same place in front of a big hotel in Pamplona. This morning the Blue Monkey was gone. The only thing left of it was the ignition lock. Fuck. Propably some drunken idiots have taken it for a ride and dumped it when it run out of gas.

Bob and Joe have rode on and here I am at the police station waiting to report the crime. The picture is from yesterday from the highest place in Pyrenees our path crossed (1073 m).

Skoll: One flew over Monkey's nest

Getting out of Pamplona was surprisingly easy. I guess most tourists left already yesterday. I got a train ticket to Barcelona for the night train and flight back to Helsinki for Monday morning.

On a different note, the fireworks show yesterday was pretty impressive.

Bob: Gaining your Monkey Butt

After waving goodbyes to the Blue Monkey, the remaining duo sped south over the sunburnt hills of Spain.

Gibraltar and the way home behind it gave wings to the monkeys and on the day more than 500km was travelled - possibly the longest ever day trip on a monkey.

This feat has made us think about a Monkey Butt certification, similar to the Iron Butt certificates for long distance motorcyclists, but tailored for mopeds. We'll have to see what happens with that.

The plan had been to cover 600 kilometers and halve the distance to Big G. However, the group got hit by a multitude of problems:

First the magnetic stripe on my credit card died, severely deducting my payment abilities. Then all gas stations closed (no automats in Spain!) and Joe ran out of gas. And finally the traffic police turned us back from the dark road because Joe's lights weren't working.

So now we're spending the night in the old town of Avila, the bikes stashed safely to the hotel bar.

Joe: Mission Impossible

At this point it seems that no monkey would be able to reach Gibraltar alone. Skoll was the unluckiest of the bunch, forced to retire from the race by treacherous spaniards. Bob has managed to fuck his credit card and would be stuck here penniless without me.

As for myself, my steed is currently burning gasolin at the rate of 4.5l/100km. Burning is misleading term since apprx. half of it is spent to rich the weak soil of Spain. Since the leak has become bigger, I'd probably be in the middle of Sierra Madre national park without Bob lending some gasolin.

With more than 4800km with my monkey, this trip begins to look like huge amount of miscalculations and optimism. But what the hell, tomorrow I'll reach Gibraltar. Hopefully there will be a monkey parade.

Bob: Petrol Couriers of Andalucia

We started in Avila at sunrise and finished 700km later almost at the gates of Gibraltar as all gas stations closed.

If there has been a defining factor for the day, it has been Joe running out of fuel.

As our pair of heroes has struggled on the plains of La Mancha against the windmill-like odds of reaching Gibraltar, just like another pair centuries earlier, the adventure always stalled at the some point, in our case: gasolino finito, engine stoppo.

The cause for these distractions has been Joe's leaking tank, which finally reached the point of losing half litre of fuel per hour. Not only this made stops short, it also meant going from refilling every 150km to about every 80km. And obviously I've been hauling spare fuel for stranded Joe from all corners of the country.

In any case we're resting the night in Ronda to arrive at Gibraltar in daylight.

Bob: Monkeys, meet Monkeys

The morning ride from Ronda to Gibraltar was rewarded with a full english breakfast on the British soil.

We spent a while wondering about my missing license plate, and then rode up The Rock to meet the last free monkeys of Europe and to give the final radio report.

Now the rally is over.

Skoll: Home, sweet home

There isn't much to tell you about the rest of my trip. Saturday was spent merrily with Johnny and Larry-Boy sitting in a park, drinking sangria and waiting for the train. On Sunday morning in Barcelona I bid farewell to the guys and planned to spend the day walking around the city. After two hours I gave up - the heat was unbearable. So I went to the airport and read the book I had taken with me (Neil Gaiman's "American Gods").

Back in Finland the first kilometers on my Triumph felt very weird. Even sitting on the bike and lifting it from the sidestand it felt increadably heavy and big. And I really had to be careful not to use throttle the same way I was used to use with the Monkey.

The trip itself turned out to be a lot more fun that I had expected. Mainly because I had expected the driving position to be something between uncomfortable and outright hellish, while in reality there was no problem at all. After 2 weeks and 3500 km the only sore muscles I got are from the previous two nights which were sent in a train and on the airport floor. Baggage capacity was also sufficient for our needs (I hade one full backpack which included a jacket, 1 litre of oil, some chain lube and tools).

Obviously the fact that I didn't make it all the way to Gibraltar is a small disappointment. But for the me the point was being on the road, not getting to our goal. We had originally planned to spend two weeks on the trip and I got two weeks of driving so it's not that bad.

A special thanks to our sponsors Motorpower in Tampere and Skyteam for provigind the bikes.

Even though the trip was fun, it was also weary, so the next one will be something easier and shorter - maybe we'll take the subway to Vuosaari or the trolley through Helsinki.