Cirque de la Forêt - Photobook

When I picture a circus I picture an eclectic group of interesting people. I picture a vibrant mix of life, a group where each and every person has escaped to this alternate world with their beautiful talents, skills and tricks. A group who’ve come together under one big magical tent with huge dreams carried on their shoulders.

It’s a tent full of endless happenings that rings with stories from the many years that have gone by.

Quite the romantic view.

A beautiful thing when each of the colourful pieces slots together.

I didn’t run away with a circus myself, but last year I stumbled into one and was swept up.

I found a circus in the forest.

It was not choreographed, there was no plan, there were no bright lights or a huge audience watching on.

But we did have the eclectic group of people, we did have the vibrant mix of life, we had the dreams, the magic and each of the pieces were slotted together perfectly.

The canopy of trees was the tent that held us.

Brought together not by a performance but each and every one there had challenge, adventure, pain, struggle and fun just like I imagine a performer would.

This wasn’t any ordinary circus and nobody there knew they were part of it.

The circus formed itself. We all thought we were there simply to climb boulders in a beautiful forest. In reality, it was so much more.

My new book Cirque de la Forêt is out now. This book is a photographic exploration into what life in the forest of Fontainebleau looks like today.

Fontainebleau is where bouldering was born and is still regarded as the finest place in the world to practice the sport. I spent three months there last year amongst (as one of) the people who spends their time climbing there. It very much felt like I was part of some sort of circus. This book is who I met, what I experienced and what I felt.

You can get a copy on my website here, I hope you enjoy it.

Llwybr Ucheldir Eryri (Snowdonia Highland Trail)

The Llwybr Ucheldir Eryri or Snowdonia Highland Trail takes you on a tour through some of North Snowdonia’s wildest, most beautiful and interesting landscapes. There are passes, peaks and plenty of lakes, technical trails, and a trip to the highest point in Wales. Don’t expect this to be a walk in the park, this is quite the ride, quite the journey and a testing little trip, however with the hard work comes high reward.

You will wiggle around and at times over Wales’ three largest mountain groups, the Snowdon Massif, Y Carneddau and Y Glyderau, you will tour a UNESCO world heritage site, a national park and explore some of Wales’ best off road biking.

The route takes you on a 73 mile (118 kilometre) loop around the highlands of Eryri, you could start and finish anywhere you like but it has been designed to start in Rhyd Ddu on the West of Snowdon with a mellow start through Beddgelert and along Gwynant before a couple of open mountain passes and rocky descents that brings you to the Gwydyr forest. The trail travels around the forest via Betws Y Coed and the singletrack of the Gwydyr Mawr trail before dropping into Dyffryn Crafnant and a little push up and over the Crimpiau pass to Capel Curig and Dyffryn Ogwen via one glorious flowing trail.

After this the route takes you along what I would say is Wales’ most spectacular valley, squeezed in between the Glyderau mountains on your left and the Carneddau on your right, as you creep in further and further the mountains roll in closer and reveal themselves more. The rocky ridge of Tryfan on your left being the most spectacular and my favourite of them all.

The ride continues onwards through some of The Slate Landscape of Northwest Wales UNESCO world heritage site at Penrhyn and Dinorwig before passing through Llanberis for an epic crescendo on Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon). This is an absolute classic and must do Welsh mountain bike adventure with a tough ride and hike up followed by about 6 km of descent down the Ranger path back to where you started.

With this route I wanted something that didn’t just give you a flavour of the area but threw you in the deep end, I hope you enjoy what I came up with.

Jacob.

Route Development

I set out to develop a route that gives a grand tour of the best riding in this part of the Snowdonia mountains. I travelled up from Pembrokeshire for years to explore this area and plotted out a draft route, one that a group of friends and I tested last year. We had a great time but there were a few imperfections that made it “not quite right”. This past summer I decided to jump right in, move up to the mountains and get to know them that little bit better. With that I explored, linked up trails and tested to finally get this route finished.

Difficulty

The route climbs and descends quite significantly including a full ascent to the highest point in Wales at the top of Yr Wyddfa/Snowdon. The climbs can be tough and at times the descents even tougher but they are certainly worth the effort when you see the views and ride some of the best trails in the country. Expect a few sections of hike a bike and some technical, rough descending, but also expect some less challenging breaks in between on a whole variety of trails and landscapes. It is certainly a mountain bike route and a gravel bike would not be enough for many sections of the ride. Some extra spare tubes and a well stocked repair kit wouldn’t go amiss.

Highlights

• The Gwydyr Forest where you will ride forest roads, past lakes and on some rough and technical singletrack. The route follows some of the Gwydyr Mawr trail here, however If you’d like to extend the route you could follow the full trail through the forest. Look out for the red arrows after you pass through Betws Y Coed.

• Crafnant is a beautiful lake and valley you pass through right after leaving the Gwydyr Forest. You leave the valley with a short hike a bike over the pass before a flowing descent down into Capel Curig. 

• Wales’ most spectacular valley. The route travels the full length of Dyffryn Ogwen from Capel Curig to Bethesda, this valley is in my opinion the most spectacular in Wales. As you travel further into the valley the striking rocky ridgeline of Tryfan reveals itself from behind the mountains to your left.

• ‘The Slate Landscape of Northwest Wales’ is a UNESCO world heritage site, the route takes you in and around a number of old and still current slate workings spread through the mountains. I find the huge old workings and abandoned infrastructure fascinating and their appearance both beautiful and an ugly scar at the same time, whichever way I look at it however the scale of the operation where whole sections of mountain have been dug away is extraordinary. The quarries in Penrhyn and Dinorwig were once the two largest slate workings in the world, you’ll see and feel their scale as you pass by.

• Reaching the highest point in Wales. Yr Wyddfa/Snowdon is a classic Welsh mountain bike adventure, this route takes you up the Llanberis Path and then down the steep and technical Ranger Path for over 6 km of descent where you drop over 900m! The climb is about 50/50 riding and hiking by distance, so chill and enjoy the walk. You’ll pass many tourists on this path, from the times I have made the accent there is a great laugh to be had with those hiking and how shocked they are that you’re taking your bike with you, the encouragement they give you will help push you to the top. The descent is quite the wild ride, mostly ridable but with a couple of short sections where all but the very very best will have to dismount (rumour has it that Dan Atherton did this from top to bottom in 7 minutes!).

Must Know

• Yr Wyddfa/Snowdon: There is a voluntary restriction on mountain biking on the mountain from the 1st of May to the 30th of September between 10am and 5pm. This is due to the popularity of the mountain with walkers and to avoid accidents between bikers and hikers. This isn’t the law or enforced in any way but is best for everyone and the longevity of biking on the mountain if stuck to, so start early or finish late when you are going up here, there is plenty of daylight during that period of the year so you should have plenty of time.

• Best bike: There is some proper mountain biking in here, the main part being up and down Yr Wyddfa/Snowdon. You’ll want a hardtail here or at the very least some chunky tyres and the option to get your saddle down. 

• Time of year: I’d aim for somewhere between late May and September, it can be nice or horrific the weather here just about any day of the year. You’re heading into the mountains so it goes without saying you’ll need plenty of warm layers and full waterproofs just in case, think about what you might need to if someone gets hurt or you get a mechanical.

• The Framed Bicycle Co. in Llanberis is a friendly shop for repairs or supplies. For general camping and outdoor gear there are great shops in Llanberis, Beddgelert, Capel Curig and Betws Y Coed.

• Where to start? You could start the loop at just about any point. We planned to start in Llanberis to tackle Snowdon first but with bad weather coming in that morning we decided to start in Rhyd Ddu instead and finish with Snowdon. This worried us at first, tackling the hardest part right at the end, however in the end I think this was the best thing and felt like an amazing way to finish the weekend with one of the best descents in the country. It is designed to be ridden in an anticlockwise direction, riding in the other direction would not be advised.

• Public transport: The route can be accessed by train at Betws Y Coed or alternatively Bangor, which has a much greater timetable of services, just a short pedal from Bethesda.

• Alternative route: If you would like to avoid the most serious off road riding or the weather is particularly bad there is an alternative well surfaced bridleway between Llanberis and Rhyd Ddu through Bwlch Maesgwm. Find it by following the small road that goes past the Youth Hostel SW out of Llanberis.

• Practise your Welsh. Welsh is the first language around the mountains here and the locals really appreciate any effort put in to speak the language. Start with “Bore da” for good morning and “Diolch” for thank you. Have a look online for pronunciation, it can be tricky for those new to the language.

The Route

Find out more and download the route GPX on bikepacking.com.

The route is a loop so you can start and finish wherever you like, however I’ve designed it to begin from near the village of Rhyd Ddu on the West side of Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon). This gives you quite the mellow start, pottering along through Beddgelert forest and weaving around the old steam railway, before coming into the village of Beddgelert itself then climbing gently out along Nant Gwynant.

Once you pass Llyn Gwynant the route turns right and hikes up and over a small pass into the next valley, here you will have a spectacular view of the Snowdon Massif and the top of Yr Wyddfa that you will come to at the end of the trip. The trail from here drops down into Dolwyddelan passing the Castle of the same name that was built in the 13th century by Llywelyn ab Iorwerth the ruler of the Kingdom of Gwynedd.

Once through the village the trail climbs gently across the side of Moel Siabod before dropping sharply down a rocky track to Afon Llugwy. This is the start of a long section through the Gwydyr Forest, there are forest roads, lakes and a whole load of singletrack from the Gwydyr Mawr trail mixed in. The section is broken in half by the village of Betws Y Coed, a good place to stock up on snacks, replace gear or fill up on pizza before continuing through the forest.

You leave the Gwydyr Forest when you reach Llyn Crafnant, this is a lake in a secluded little valley that only has one way in and out by road, however you can leave over the pass with a little hike a bike which treats you to a lovely flowing 2 km or so of decent down into Capel Curig. Capel Curig sits at one end of Dyffryn Ogwen, which is for me the most spectacular valley in Wales. The trail and valley are squeezed in between the Glyderau mountains on your left and the Carneddau on your right, as you creep in further and further the mountains roll in closer and reveal themselves more. The rocky ridge of Tryfan on your left being the most spectacular and my favourite of them all. The route through the valley follows the old road from the 17 hundreds that came before Thomas Telford's relatively modern A5 that sits on the opposite side of the river.

As you get to Bethesda and the end of Dyffryn Ogwen the signs of past and present slate mining will become more and more present, continuing from here over through Dinorwig and onto Llanberis. This whole area is part of the UNESCO world heritage site for the The Slate Landscape of Northwest Wales. I find the huge old workings and abandoned infrastructure fascinating and their appearance both beautiful and an ugly scar at the same time, whichever way I look at it however the scale of the operation where whole sections of mountain have been dug away is extraordinary with the quarries in Penrhyn and Dinorwig, at one point being the two largest in the world, you’ll see and feel their scale as you pass by.

From Llanberis the trail follows the Llanberis Path to the summit of Yr Wyddfa. The accent is about 50/50 riding and hiking by distance, so chill and enjoy the hike. From the summit the trail goes back on itself a few hundred metres before crossing the railway and making the 6km descent down the Ranger path. It is quite the ride and you’ll understand why you pushed your bike so far up here.

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Maps and where they take you.

Maps.

I love maps

Since I was a kid I have loved spending hours and hours pouring over maps, looking at places I’ve been and for new places to explore.

There is so much wonder that comes from a map. I wonder what places are like in real life, why a certain road or path made it to where it is today and what the view looks like from that peak or valley I can see there.

I particularly enjoy plotting routes on maps, planning an adventure and imagining what it is like to hike or bike along it’s dotted line. It’s nice to link bits of trail you know to bits you don't, then exciting when you link it back to somewhere you know again. Those parts of the world that were not connected are now touching and one in my head.

Sometime last year I put pen to paper and made the first draft of a two day bikepacking route around the mountains of Snowdonia, gathered a bunch of regular bikepacking friends and headed out to see what we could find.

We had a wonderful weekend riding wild trails.

The hours were spent exploring forests, lakes and open mountains.

Following the dotted line through places I’d been before and to many a new place too.

We answered so many of the questions and wonders I’d had as I’d been plotting the route out on the map. It was a great weekend of exploring, laughs and great wild trails.

As great as it was however, there was more time needed staring at maps to iron out the creases in this route before I’d ever share it with anyone else, unlike us most people don't enjoy an hour riding in axel deep river bog tracks.

Now this year living up here in the mountains I have got to know this whole place a lot better. I've sat and stared at more maps, wondered about more trails and spent many hours riding my bike to interesting places.

I’m now happy with this little dotted line I’ve plotted around the mountains.

I’ve called it Llwybr Ucheldir Eryri which is Welsh for Snowdonia Highland Trail.

You can find all the details on bikepacking.com or my website here.

If you head out to ride this, let me know and I do hope you enjoy it.

Jacob.

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Stirring the pot…

It’s been a little while since I last wrote to you here, a really long while.

Spring and summer have been and gone and we’re well into the autumn now. I marked the end of the summer with a little bike ride following the stones from the Preseli Hills in Pembrokeshire to Stonehenge for the equinox. That’s a story I’ll tell another day, so many more things have happened between now and when I last wrote here.

Before the summer I was a little lost and feeling stagnant, so without much planning but with a strong desire for change, to stir up the pot and relight the fire, I found some work on a campsite in the mountains of North Wales. I worked a lot, exploring throughout the rocky landscape whenever I had time, going new places, meeting new people and getting to know this part of the world a whole lot better.

This was the change I really needed and got me back working on the things I should have finished a good while ago. The biggest of these is the photobook I set out to make from last year’s trip to Fontainebleau, as I write this it is at the printers getting made. That really puts a smile on my face that it's almost out there in the world, it’s certainly the best book I’ve made so far. We’ll never know but maybe the roadblock working on it was really what it needed.

Right now deep in the autumn with the winter about to start knocking hard at the door I’m still up in the mountains. I’ve moved out of the van that I was in for the summer and into a house with some other climbers. We'll see what adventures come before the end of the year and how long I’ll be up here before heading somewhere new. Right now it’s a good place to bury myself in all these projects and ideas that I have swirling around in my head, I have some cool things coming along with the book, I’ve been nestled behind the sewing machine seeing what I can create, plotting and planning bike routes and as always have a good stock of film ready to go in my camera.

I’ll be in touch again soon.

Jacob.

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Winter Nights in Caves and Bothies

Rain.

Rain pouring.

Still pouring.

Much of the winter felt like that.

We’re just escaping it now.

Or I damn hope so anyway.

But the rain isn't all bad.

The rain brings so much.

The rain brings one of my favourite feelings.

The one where you can hear the rain hitting the roof while you’re cosy and sheltered inside.

Where the world gets battered but you stay untouched.

Where you can feel the world shake.

It’s a balance of wild and calm.

Comfortable discomfort.

The contrast as you move from one environment to another.

I love that, it’s interesting.

My favourite experience of this over the winter was a special one.

A scramble down a cliff to a night in a cave.

We awoke in the morning to find the world so wild outside but calm in this little natural haven.

A primitive feeling maybe.

That all being said, there are adventures and feelings I’d like to experience in the sun.

Contrast again.

It would be boring if it was all the same.

Jacob.

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Three Cycle Adventures Of The Summer Part 3: Yn ôl i Cymru.

This is Dilly.

I got a message from her back in January after she saw an article I wrote.

In essence it said "You seem cool, let's hang out."

So while she cycled south through the UK from John o'Groats towards Lands End over the summer I joined her for three days from Manchester back into her homeland of Wales and down to Machynlleth.

She was back in the UK for the first time in three years ready to start her PHD and on a mission to see the country from a new angle. There was no stopping between landing in the UK and heading to John o'Groats so here is her enjoying her first visit back to Wales in quite a while.

A fun three days on the bikes practicing our Welsh, eating far too much sweet food and generally having a laugh with a new friend.

She insists these Super Noodles are really quite good but for someone who has done a lot of this traveling light and camping I've not yet had the urge to try them. Maybe next time.

Here's to more bike trips, long and short, soon.

Jacob

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Three Cycle Adventures Of The Summer Part 2: The Snowdonia loop you shouldn't do…yet.

A couple of years ago Tom, Hugo and myself cycled the Lakeland 200, it's a brilliant but tough bikepacking route around the lake district that pulls together the best rough riding of the area.

I thought that Snowdonia could do with its own version so I started plotting and planning and came up with a route.

In late August I once again gathered Tom and Hugo as well as our friends Will, Issy and Mike to test out what I had made.

The route took in a number of mountain passes, the Penmachno Trail, the Gwydyr Trail, the Ogwen Valley, the Llanberis slate mines and the summit of Snowdon itself.

We had planned an early ascent of Snowdon but as we didn't fancy getting hit by lightning we decided to move the start to the other side of the mountain and to finish up there instead.

We set off with rain showers coming and going but luckily no thunder and lightning to be seen. It stayed like that most of the weekend, just the odd shower here and there but generally good weather for wiggling around the mountains.

I thought the ride up and down Snowdon would be the crux of this route but after lunch on the first day we found the real crux. A forest trail where you could sink past your knees in mud and bog, though with no alternative route we smiled and tried to see how far we could cycle through each section. Sometimes you'd come to an immediate stop and sometimes you'd disappear quite deep but somehow reach the other side.

We were glad to get past that.

The rest was fun with good views and nice trails.

A highlight was of course the Ogwen, a treat every time you go and especially so when you go by bike.

After there we looped over the hill and down into Llanberis via the slate mines.

Then it was just Snowdon left to do.

I wasn't sure if leaving this to the end would be a good idea or not. But after fueling ourselves up we started the ride and push to the top no problem at all.

There were many a hike a bike in this route but they're just part of this silly game where we take our bikes to interesting places. In some weird way it's not enjoyable and so very enjoyable at the same time. It reminded me of the hours long push and carry of our bikes up and over Black Sail Pass during the ride that inspired this one.

Then once we were at the top it was just a wild wild almost 1000m of descent back to the bottom.

We had a good laugh as we always do on these trips but I'm not sure I can recommend this route to you just yet, I need to get back to the map and iron out the creases a little.

Jacob.

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Three Cycle Adventures Of The Summer Part 1: Landsker with Amity Customs

Matt owns a lovely little bike shop called Amity.

Charlie, Emrys and I met him there early one August morning.

They fuelled on coffee. We all faffed with our bikes.

Then we set off down the hill to start the ride.

I had put together a loop, 95km or so.

I think it was Matt's idea, to turn the Landsker Borderlands trail into a cycle route.

So that's what we did, following closely to the original trail but along little lanes and bridleways.

It was supposed to be a gravel bike ride but I do remember Matt remarking at one point "I don't know what you think gravel biking is, but it's not this."

But seeing as I was on a mountain bike and Emrys was on a road bike and I survived the roads and he survived the rocks and mud, I would say that averages out somewhere near a gravel bike ride.

Either way we were having a lot of fun.

A lot of fun eating pastries and pies.

A lot of fun flying down hills, on road and off.

It was nice to explore a little corner of the county I didn't know so well, to travel through places I've been before and see them in a different way.

We were tired as we neared being back at the bike shop but not too tired to give it some beans for the last mile or so. Flying down these little lanes whizzing past each other with huge smiles spread across our faces.

It was a good day, as days on bikes usually are.

Thanks Matt, Charlie and Emrys.

This route is coming as a fun little event with Amity sometime next year.

Jacob

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Inis Mór - An Island Climbing Adventure

There’s something about an island.

The way it’s contained, limited, surrounded maybe. Something about them sparks a glow in my brain.

It was pouring with rain as we walked into the booking office to buy our ferry tickets.

“Are we sure?” we asked again. I was excited to head over as soon as possible but the others understandably were sceptical and thought we should wait an extra day or two.

I talked them into it in my excitement and we headed to gather together the final bits we would need on the island. A couple of hours later we hauled our heavy bags of climbing and camping gear onto the boat and sat down inside still unsure if this was the right decision.

Up and down and up and down the boat went. We hadn’t even left the harbour so we knew it would be a rough one. As the boat pulled out we discovered it was a lot more wild than we thought. The four of us bounced high out of our seats, bounced again and again and grabbed tight to whatever was around us. It was quite the ride, feeling a lot more like a rollercoaster than a ferry.

After an hour and a half, stopping at the two other Aran Islands and feeling really quite sea sick we stepped wobbly legged onto Inis Mór. Our expectations were low but our optimism high for good weather and dry rock in the coming days. 

The journey to an island must have something to do with what makes them so special to me, this certainly wouldn’t have been the same had it been all flat and calm. 

I had met Bert and Dan in Fontainebleau back in March where they had told me about this island off the West coast of Ireland, its crashing waves and high imposing sport climbing crag on the limestone cliffs overlooking the Atlantic. I was immediately sold on the adventure and doubly so when I saw the photos and said I’d certainly come across and join them there. Natalie also came across from Wales and Alex was another friend Bert had made on his climbing travels earlier in the year.

The morning after we arrived we walked to the crag confidently. Though this confidence didn’t last long when we found ourselves tucking behind one of the many stone walls to shelter from an incoming rain shower. 

The week started like that. Dodging rain showers and climbing between mini waterfalls. No matter, we made do, enjoying the spells it was dry and having a laugh anyway when it was not.

As the days went on it got drier and drier and better and better until it was warm, sunny and the sea looked inviting for a swim. The whole place was transformed. We went from slipping on wet green slime while belaying to sunbathing between climbs. Showers on cruxes disappeared, we stopped having to hide in caves and the sun gave us time to look back and enjoy the spectacular place we were in. Spirits were high, we cycled to natural sea swimming pools and enjoyed fiery sunsets. 

The final day was topped off with Nat, Bert and Alex getting to the top of their week’s projects. Before we said goodbye to this cliff and enjoyed a calm walk back to the campsite as the sun went down. We reminisced about the fun we’d had, laughed at how wet it was when we first arrived and remembered the crazy boat ride that got us out here.

There was a reason Bert had spoken so longingly of this place.

There’s something about an island.

I have made a small limited edition A6 photo zine from this adventure which you can get here. There are only 100 available. The support means a lot, I hope you enjoy. 

Jacob

The Zine - Details
A small photo zine of our adventure to sport climb on Inis Mór, a wild island off the West coast of Ireland.

• A6.

• 32 sides.

• All photos taken on film.

• Only 100 copies available.

• £3 standard price.

• £10 to help put more film in my camera.

There are 50 standard price copies and 50 at the supporter price. The supporter allows you to further help my work, put film in my camera and make more projects like this happen. When each type is gone, they are gone.

Bikepacking without a map

The idea was to get from Hugo’s house in the hills of Somerset to our friend Max’s new campsite somewhere south of Barnstaple. A simple trip except we decided to leave the map and GPS behind and see if our noses alone could get us there.

We didn’t know what we were going to discover, to be honest we barely knew where we were going. Hugo had a little, somewhat questionable, local knowledge for the start and Tom knew how to get to Max’s farm as long as we got to the river Taw. While I, the non local simply knew it was roughly West South West. So I set my compass in that direction and chose whichever path was closest.

That’s how we made most of our decisions on this trip, that and simply “this feels right”, “that looks cool” or “I think we should go this way”. If there was ever an option for dirt we had to take it and if we realised we were going the wrong way we had to carry on regardless and see where we ended up. It really does sound like a recipe for disaster, it sounds like we would end up on some terrible roads and stuck down dead end paths. But whatever our noses had caught the scent of was heading the right way down some brilliant trails.

We followed country lanes and whenever we could bridleways and off road paths. We passed through little villages and bumped into some friends of Hugo’s who pointed us back in the right direction. We felt free, there were no wrong decisions and every turn was a little exploration.

We left one village by a little lane called West Street, simply due to the ‘West” in the name. Through some luck this led us on to a bridleway and continued along the edge of some fields and through woodland before spitting us out next to a river and another bridleway that followed its path. That was 10km or so of off road we otherwise wouldn’t have known about.

I’ve no idea how far we cycled over these 24 hours or so. By the most efficient route it would have been about 70km but of course this wasn’t efficient at all. I’m sure we zig zagged all over the place and almost ran over our own tails once or twice, though if a place is nice you may as well see it from every angle.

Having no map forced us to speak to a lot of people we otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to and go places we otherwise would never have gone. Not all paths were perfect, but every path and track and road was exciting, intriguing and totally not how it is when you know what is next.

We stopped at a pub in Dulverton for dinner then took the local’s recommendation of a bivvi under the trees in the park. It was a good spot with a thick canopy of leaves that held off most of the rain that fell in the night. Tom and I slept well, Hugo on the other hand forgot his bivvi bag and had a somewhat less pleasant and dry night.

In the morning we continued, fuelled by pastries from the village shop. We followed more lanes, tracks and the wisdom of the compass. We found water from a hose pipe and took a passer-by’s recommendation on a ‘good cafe’.

At some point around lunchtime Tom realised he knew where we were, this was South Molton, the last town before we reached Max’s farm. So we grabbed some food for the BBQ and rolled on down the hill to the river Taw. Then just one hill back out of the valley and we got to where we wanted to be.

This little wild idea somehow worked out, somehow didn’t end in disaster but as we expected was a great little adventure.

Jacob

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Fontainebleau - A Forest With A Story.

“Go to the mountains” I was told, but there was a reason I didn’t listen and went to a forest far from the nearest mountain instead. Fontainebleau is a circus of like minded people enjoying a simple life, some come for just a day or two, some for a week and some stay for the whole season. It all depends on how much time they can find, maybe just a day trip from Paris, maybe they can squeeze a week off work or for some this is a lifestyle they have created where they work for three months a year and travel about climbing for the rest.

Each person is different and like always that makes it interesting.

Picture a little ever changing village visiting the forest, made up from those who have come from every direction around. We all arrive not knowing who our neighbours will be but we know we’ll find them and they know they’ll find us. Everyone helps everyone, supporting them on their projects, fixing each other's vans, sometimes cooking together and always sharing tales of the day's successes and failures of an evening.

It must be a confusing view for anyone looking down from above. Honestly, it probably seems confusing to many other people in this world. Why would you go and live in a forest just to get up rocks in ways other than the easiest? You don’t get to see a spectacular view from the top, however there is something quite wonderful about how much of a point you can make out of something so pointless.

But does anything have a point anyway?

I’m not convinced.

So we may as well make our own.

We were all brought here by the rocks but without the people I’m sure we wouldn’t stay. Both the people who are there at the present and those who were there before us. Those who first imagined and invented the sport, those who first climbed the boulders and named them, those who painted the first circuits that have developed into what they are today. Those who did good to the forest and those who did bad.

These people defined the culture of bouldering in this forest, and the culture of this little corner of climbing as it has bled out further to the sport. I’m not sure if they knew at the time and I’m not sure if we know right now if what we are doing is defining the culture for the future or not.

The forest is not just a forest, it’s a forest with a story.

That’s why I didn’t go to the mountains.

Jacob

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Cold Nights In Fontainebleau

I woke in the morning to a thick layer of ice on the inside of my van where the condensation from my breath had frozen to any piece of bare metal it could find. We were still deep in the heart of winter at this point and without a heater to keep me warm I had been tucked up in bed for almost 12 hours.

I was feeling a little lost and not sure if I had made the right decision to be here at this time of year. I had messages from a friend telling me how nice and warm it was climbing in Spain. “Why did you come here?” I thought to myself as I pulled my thickest woolly socks over my feelingless toes.

I was in Fontainebleau, France. A huge forest just south of Paris that is home to the best bouldering in the world. Here is where the now hugely popular sport began and where it continues to grow and evolve. Once I had thawed myself out and the first rays of sunshine hit me I remembered that is why I was here, there is no other place in the world like it. No other place with the history or stature that has defined the sport and culture. Both complete beginners and the best in the world can climb here side by side. The rock is seemingly endless, there is enough for you to spend the rest of your life here without ever running out of things to climb.

I came with my climbing shoes and my camera to experience this place more, meet the people who spend their days living in the forest and see for myself why Fontainebleau is Fontainebleau.

This wasn’t an ‘epic’ adventure like last year’s, but I wanted to go somewhere and stay, stop, and be in one place for a little while. Throughout my cycle across Europe I saw a lot of places very briefly but didn’t get to know anywhere well. Here however, I stayed for almost three months. Getting to know the culture, the weather, the people and the best boulangeries. 

By the time I left the winter had gone, spring had passed and the summer was just getting started. It was an interesting three months that I’ll tell you more about soon, for now I need to dig through all these rolls of film I just got back and see what I can make with all the photos.

Jacob.

Podcast - More stories from the European Divide Trail.

I sat down with both Anna and Max who joined me on the cycle across Europe to record a couple of podcasts and share a few more stories from the three months of adventure. I am forever grateful to Max for joining at the start and for the friendship I made with Anna over the many many miles.

Max

Max was the only person I could find crazy enough to join me. He came with me to the start and stayed for the first three weeks, through Norway, Finland and into Sweden.

Anna

As we sat at the start of the trail in Grense Jakobselv we met Anna. She happened to be in the same place, at the same time doing the same trail. About half an hour later we started cycling south and about 3 months later Anna and I now great friends arrived in the opposite corner of Europe.

I made a photo book from the trip, if you would like to get a copy or support me you can get one here.

Strangers Make Great Friends - Photobook.

At the start of June 2022 I set off to bikepack the European Divide Trail. The plan was for my mate Max to join me for the first three weeks and then I would continue for the next two months alone. However, on the very first day as we sat on the coast of Norway we met another cyclist. Anna just happened to be in the same place, at the same time, riding the same trail.

Half an hour or so later the three of us pointed our bikes south and started cycling.

Three months or so later Anna and I arrived in the opposite corner of the continent, now friends.

Strangers Make Great Friends is a photo book telling the story of this adventure, the story of a friendship and the story of a moment in time.

Lessons From The Trail

I want to tell you about some notes in my notebook.
You see, over the summer as I cycled from one corner of Europe to the other,
I started this list.
I called it Lessons from the trail.

I noticed the first as I came into Gothenburg.
After a month of riding through the wilderness of Norway, Finland and Sweden.
I noticed something was different.
I noticed it when I couldn't fill my water from a river any more.
I noticed it when the people we passed stopped saying hello.
I noticed it when I had to lock my bike outside a shop.
Civilisation isn't civilised.

The next I don’t remember writing down.
But it helped.
Reading signposts can be useful.

The third. I remember noticing a lot.
When we stopped for lunch or camped for the night.
I noticed, there's something about a bench.
Well, it doesn’t have to be a bench but just something to lift you out the dirt. 

Things didn’t always go to plan on the trip.
They usually don’t.
The difference however when you’re in the middle of nowhere, is there is no buying your way out or calling for help.
There will be problems. The trail will teach you how to fix them.

I’m lucky to be here.
I’m lucky to be here.

The next one is obvious.
Bring a full roll of duct tape.

I remember before I went away I found a flat stone on a beach not far from where I live,
It had scratched into it, “You never regret a swim”.
I think that inspired the next one, which we ended up making a rule.
Never pass a good swim spot.

We met a guy called Steve on about the 4th or 5th day.
He would clean his bike thoroughly most evenings.
We weren't as disciplined as him, but we tried as often as we remembered.
It didn’t take much to make the bike run more smoothly.
So, lube your chain.

Some dating advice from one of the many chats on the trip.
You are a hot ticket.
Believe it.

The next seems obvious.
It seems easy.
But if you are cycling every day.
It can be hard to realise how much you actually have to do it.
Eat. Eat. Eat.

Finally, I want to tell you the most extraordinary story from the trip.
My friend Max joined me for the first 3 weeks,
after that I would continue alone.
I didn’t want to go alone but it's hard to find anyone else crazy enough to cycle across a continent.
However on the very first day as we sat eating lunch looking across the Arctic Ocean with Russia merely a couple of hundred meters away. Another cyclist turned up.
About half an hour later we started cycling south with this stranger.
About 3 months later I arrived in the opposite corner of Europe with one of my best friends.
Strangers Make Great Friends.

I have made a photobook from the trip. It tells the story of an adventure, a story of a friendships and a story of a moment in time. It launched last night around pizza with friends. You can get a copy here.

Jacob.

The Swedish River Crossing

About 40km into the day we reached this wide fairly fast flowing river. The route description had said there was a free ferry crossing. We could see the ferry sitting alone on the opposite bank and it certainly wasn't going anywhere soon.

There was nothing we could do but wait. So we sat in the sun and made some lunch, until a while later when we saw a person on a bike over the other side. We waved and shouted until we had their attention. She shouted back in Swedish but switched to perfect English when we unfortunately couldn't understand.

We should knock on the door of the red house and there is someone there who can help, she told us.

Confusingly all houses in Sweden seem to be red but eventually Max found the right one. He bound back excitedly that we finally had a way to cross the river with an old local man following a few minutes behind.

At this point we thought he would take the small boat across to fetch the ferry and take us across on that. But instead he gestures for two of us to get in the small boat.

So Max and I timidly got aboard and before we knew it he pushed the boat out into the river with the big wooden pole. Then over a few tense moments as we floated increasingly quickly down the river he tries and fails three times to start the engine before it finally spluttered into motion and took us across the river.

He brought Anna and Steve across to join us before leaving with a wave and heading back to finish the nap Max had accidentally woken him from.

Jacob.

This was one of my favourite moments from bikepacking the European Divide Trail over the summer. See more stories from me by joining my monthly(ish) newsletter.

See more from me by joining my monthly(ish) newsletter.

You Never Regret A Swim.

I woke up after a fairly good night in my little boat hut.

A pretty cool place to sleep on my own private beach.

Someone had built the little hut with an upturned boat stacked on some of the rocks collected from the beach.

I crawled out and noticed the sign I found the night before.

I'd propped it up at the door of the boat hut so I wouldn’t forget about it.

“You never regret a swim.” it said.

I couldn’t not get in then really.

So I searched out my towel from my backpack, walked down to the water's edge, stripped right off and jumped in.

Not too long later I was back out again and wrapped up in my towel but felt so good.

Thank you whoever wrote the little note.

You never regret a swim.

The day before I had set off from Poppit Sands to walk the coast path.

Just me.

No internet.

Dumb phone only.

A notebook in one pocket and a camera in the other.

I’ve walked parts of the Pembrokeshire Coast Path for years but never linked it all together.

So I thought I’d have a go.

In part optimistically hoping to do the whole thing but also just going as far as I go.

It was great.

Everywhere was familiar but I hadn’t explored all the ups and downs and ins and outs of the path before.

So it was also unfamiliar in a weird way.

I camped out wherever I got to that night.

Ate what I could carry.

And filled up with water where I could.

No distractions from the internet.

Just listening to the sound of the world.

Just watching the show in front of me.

After four days of walking there was a pain in my knee developing.

I umed and ahhed about whether I should carry on.

Feeling a little like I was failing as I had hoped to do a lot more.

But I eventually realised it was the best choice.

I’d only damage my knee further.

And I certainly hadn’t failed.

The days weren’t wasted so far from it.

I’ll be back for more another day.

Jacob.

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See more from me by joining my monthly(ish) newsletter.

The Best Rock In The World

We headed out in hope that it hadn’t snowed so much further up the valley.

In hope that some rock may still be dry.

In hope that it would be gone by the next day.

We trudged along through the snow, slid on hidden rocks and tried to avoid breaking any ankles.

There was a fresh eight inches of fluffy white powder dusted across the mountains, valleys and little villages.

Beautiful.

Perfect for a skier.

But we immediately knew we weren't going to find a dry piece of rock.

We were in Ticino, Switzerland.

Just north of the border from Italy.

Home to maybe the finest rock the world has to offer.

Honestly we didn’t think we’d climb for another couple of days at least.

And only if it didn’t snow again.

We were in luck, however.

The next day some friends let us know the valley they were in nearby hadn’t had a whole lot of snow.

We drove up there and discovered the last of the snow disappearing in front of our eyes.

The climbing could go on.

For the rest of the trip the weather was as good as it gets.

The next day we found ourselves in t-shirts laying by the river waiting for the sun to dip behind the mountains and the rock to cool off.

We toured the various areas and boulders.

Brione, Val Bavona, Chironico and Cresciano.

Visited classics.

And bumped into a good selection of the best climbers in the world.

Eliot and Solly were ticking off problems right up until after the sun had gone down on the last day.

We laughed.

We ate pizza.

We met good people.

Jacob.

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Home Is Where My People Are.

I grew up in a little village in the far west of Wales.

In the middle of nowhere.

I can ride my bike from the door and straight up into the hills.

It’s lovely.

But unfortunately the front door is a long way from other’s front doors.

I didn’t have that many friends as a kid.

I got my first real friends when I started climbing.

At that point the climbing wall became home.

I’d spend hours there.

Then as I got to know more people my home grew.

It grew to the mountains.

It grew to the trails.

To the crags.

To the beaches.

To the sea.

To laybys full of my favourite people living in their vans.

Home isn’t one place anymore.

It’s not really this little village in Wales.

My home moves.

It comes, it goes, it changes.

Home is where my people are.

This all really came true and grew a lot last year.

I met so many people and had the most amazing times with them.

It was a great year.

I have put all my favourite photos from this year of adventures with great people into a little photobook/zine.

There are a few available here.

You can pay however much you want and the money will help put film in my camera, chocolate brownies in my belly and make more projects happen in the future.

Thank you.

Jacob.

Talk To Strangers.

A couple of years back I wrote a little list.

It was kind of a list of ways to change the world.

My world at least.

It has seven points.

Point number three says “Talk to strangers.”

- Jacob.

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