The road to the North Cape.

The road to North cape - Day 1

June 15th finally rolled around, and I was pumped. After all the planning and packing, it was time to hit the road for what would be my longest motorcycle trip yet—a 6,200-kilometer ride all the way to the North Cape and back. This wasn’t just any trip; it was the big one. The one I’d been dreaming about.

In the weeks leading up to that day, I’d spent countless hours meticulously preparing both myself and my bike. I’d serviced the motorcycle with fresh oil, replaced the filters, refurbished the cooler, changed the tires, and even serviced the front fork—nothing was left to chance. My gear was just as carefully planned. My saddlebags were packed to perfection, carrying everything I needed for the journey ahead: a sleeping bag, sleeping pad, camping stove, cooking essentials, toolkit, and more. I even packed both a tent and a camping hammock, giving me the flexibility to set up camp wherever the road took me. Every item had its place, and every detail was considered.

But when it came to the trip itself, I had nothing set in stone. I hadn’t booked any campsites or mapped out specific stops in advance. My only plan was to follow the Trans Euro Trail, setting up camp whenever the mood struck and finding places to eat whenever hunger hit. I was determined to embrace the freedom of the open road, solving any challenges as they came. It was a journey into the unknown, and that was exactly how I wanted it.

Hitting the Road

I had my gear packed and ready to go the night before, so when I hopped on my bike around 9 a.m., I was ready to roll. The air was fresh, the sun was making a shy appearance, and I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. After a quick fuel stop, I was off, heading towards Växjö.

There’s something special about the first stretch of a long trip. The familiar roads outside Kalmar felt a little different that morning, knowing I’d be away for two weeks and covering serious ground. The plan was to ride to Alvesta, where I’d connect with the Trans Euro Trail (TET) and start making my way north. I only had 14 days to pull this off, so I’d need to average about 450 kilometers a day—not a small task, but I was up for it.

Onward to Alvesta

The ride to Alvesta was smooth and easy, just the way I like to start a long trip. The weather was behaving, and the bike was humming along nicely. By the time I rolled into Alvesta, the day was warming up, and I was feeling good. I took a quick break, grabbed a snack, and then it was time for the real adventure to begin.

Once I hit the TET, the whole vibe of the ride changed. Even though this first part was about 50/50 paved and gravel, gone were the smooth roads, replaced by gravel and dirt trails winding through forests and fields. This was what I’d been looking forward to—riding through nature, away from the main roads, with just me, my bike, and the open trail. It felt like I was leaving the everyday world behind and stepping into something different, something more exciting.

And excitement I got.. At one point, I encountered a massive tree that had fallen across the road. It must have come down just minutes before I arrived, as a woman who showed up in a car mentioned she had heard it crash. The tree was too large to attempt riding over, so I had to adapt quickly. With no way to move the obstacle, I was forced to take a detour.

The Weather Takes a Turn

But, of course, no good adventure goes off without a hitch. By mid-afternoon, I noticed the sky starting to turn an ominous shade of gray. At first, I tried to convince myself it would just blow over, but deep down, I knew what was coming. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the first raindrops started to fall—just a light drizzle at first, nothing too bad. I figured I could ride it out, but before I knew it, that drizzle turned into a full-on downpour.

So, there I was, pulled over on the side of the road, wrestling with my rain poncho and pants, trying to get suited up before I got completely drenched. Once I was geared up, I hopped back on the bike and got back to it, determined to push through.

I had made some poor choices when it came to my rain gear. The pants where ok, but I had decided to take a simple rain poncho instead of a proper rain jacket It covered me a bit from the rain, but trying to ride with it was a nightmare. The wind was catching it and pulling it in every direction, and I was constantly readjusting it to keep it from flapping around too much. It eventually teared up, and I had to ride without it.

My goggles were fogging up every few minutes, which meant I was constantly wiping them down with one hand while trying to keep the bike steady with the other. Meanwhile, the rain was finding every little gap in my gear, and soon enough, I was feeling the cold creep in.

But, as uncomfortable as it was, I kept reminding myself that this was all part of the adventure. I mean, what’s a motorcycle trip without a little weather drama, right?

Finally, Tibro

By the time I reached Tibro, the rain was still coming down, and I was pretty much soaked through. I hadn't planned my stops before the trip, but looked for campsites when I felt it was time and I was more than happy to find a wind shelter not far away. It wasn’t fancy, but it was a bit secluded and a shelter for the rain, and that’s all I cared about at that point.

Wind shelters in Sweden are often quite well arranged, so I could just roll out the sleeping bag and get my stuff under cover. After some food, I peeled off my wet gear, crawled into my sleeping bag, and just listened to the rain hitting the roof of the wind shelter. Even though the weather was a downer I felt good. I had made it through the first day, and that felt pretty cool!

Reflecting on the Day

Day one was a solid start to the trip, even with the rain. I had left 470 kilometers behind me so I followed my plan.

Although I had gone through my gear several times and weighed the pros and cons of each choice, my choice to take a rain poncho was something I regret. I don't really know what I was thinking, but for some reason I hadn't expected to drive with the poncho.

Sure, it was a rough start, but it was also exciting that I was finally on my way, and I knew there was much more ahead of me.

More miles, more trails and probably more challenges, but that's what I signed up for. This was just the beginning, and I couldn't wait to see where the road would take me next...