Loose Spokes: A 36-Hour Bikepacking Escape to Mount Ziria

As a creature of habit I always tend to return to happy places when chaos ensues. The mountain of Ziria will always be one of them for many reasons. Maybe because it reminds me of the forgotten art of slowing down or maybe because it’s been almost a year now and I still remember every single moment from that long weekend exactly 337 days ago.…and time keep slipping away. 

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Time is relative.

You’ve heard this..right?

According to the special theory of relativity, the rate at which time passes depends on your frame of reference.

I did not make this up. That’s some big words from some big brain.

Growing up in a big city, the point of reference is a clock.

Everything is timed.

We wake up with an alarm and from that point onwards the clock is always ticking.

10 minutes of hygiene, 20 minutes of feeding, 30 seconds to the door.*

9 to 5 days, 7 day weeks, 12 months a year. You get it.

Everything is timed and the clock never stops ticking.

And just like that, one day you are an adult and you are always running out of time.

Now hear me out, as a kid I never cared about time.

Didn’t even own a watch.

Didn’t need one.

And I kinda miss these days.

Days where time was slow.

Days like that are now rare, somewhat special and usually far from the comfort of my home and the abundance of devices that remind me that time is ticking away.

What’s even weirder, is that even days like that usually start with an alarm clock.

And so it goes.. It’s Saturday, 3.45AM and my alarm is ringing.

Riding my bike or catching a flight is probably the only two reasons to set up an alarm that early.

It’s the Loose Spokes weekend and I wake up surprisingly well-rested for the few hours of sleep I had the night before.

16 people enrolled for the 2nd edition of Loose Spokes, a two-day bike-packing adventure at Mount Ziria, home of god Hermes.

My phone buzzes. “Severe cold warning” notification slides down the phone screen as I button up and jump on the bike.

Saturday small hours and people are still coming out of clubs and bars.

I stop at the traffic light and zone out for a second.

This could be me. This could be us.

But we have our own thing going on.

Green light, I snap out of it and continue my commute to our rendezvous point, the central train station of Athens.

Someone is already waiting.

The rest of the crew starts appearing one by one.

We are now a crowd.

Everyone is buzzing with excitement.

Feels cult-ish.

It’s a short train ride to the starting point, a seaside town called KIATO, where we will start our adventure.

Yiannos and I have been carefully planning this getaway for a couple of weeks now.

Emails have been sent, route has been scouted and maps have been shared with the participants.

The sun is now up and LOOSE SPOKES weekend is unfolding.

16 riders, 140km and 3750d+ of elevation and hopefully no signs of clocks up there.

2 days of self-supported cycling, an overnight stay at a mountain cabin at 1650m and a loop around the peak.

Day 1: Upwards and Into the Forest

Starting our way riding up through backroads and grapevines.

It’s still Autumn down here.

Hues of red and yellow as we cross vineyards and olive gardens.

Open hunting Season is on.

We can hear gunshots echoing in the mountainsides.

A hunter is standing in front of his car. He is the lookout.

We greet and ask him if it’s safe to pass.

He nods.

I ask if I can take a picture of his belt, missing a couple cartridges. He then asks me to take another one with his gun.

We are all proud of something we own.

For me it’s a bicycle.

Onwards and upwards.

First drizzle.

A rainbow appears just before our first pit stop at the village of Velina.

The narrow road passing through the town square takes us straight to the local coffee shop.

This is how most small Greek villages are built usually.

Coffee with the locals is mandatory.

Everyone is keen to stop for some warm beverages and a snack.

Kostas, a local rider greets us. He has helped with the route planning and knows his ways around this mountain.

Stoked to see so many people riding bikes near his hometown he decides to join us for the rest of the ride.

The more the merrier.

Few mechanicals so far.

A flat tire, or a poor shifting drivetrain usually is an inconvenience.

Not today. Quick fixes and we are back on the road.

30 kms and around 1400 metres of elevation elapsed.

Forest roads are now single tracks cutting through the forest.

We are on a hiking trail close to the top.

Temperature has gone significantly down.

3 degrees above 0.

Keep going.

Fir trees left and right as the dense forest surround us.

The air is clean, fresh, piercing your lungs.

Feels good.

More singletrack.

Rills.

Peanut butter mud.

My friend Mel calls it “forest jail”.

Out of the forest jail and we are closing the plateau now.

The roads widen up. Almost too wide for a mountain road.

Someone said that they were built this way, because planes were landing here during WW2.

Last kms before we reach the mountain cabin and everyone is pushing harder.

Passing by a lake that is whipped by strong winds as the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the mountain peaks.

A subtle reminder that we should get going. No-one wants to be out here after dark.

Over 2K of elevation has elapsed and the refuge is in sight, hanging off the cliffs.

The wide dirt roads disappear once again and give their place to rocky unrideable shepherd trails.

The last hike-a-bike section is rough but the reward is only a few meters away now.

Night at the Cabin

16 beds, a stove, a petrol-fueled heater and a big table.

No drinking water or electricity.

Definitely no clocks.

We open up the heavy metal door and settle in.

Turn on the heater.

Kitchen duty.

We are a team now and it’s time to celebrate with a warm plate of food.

Pasta-pesto is on the menu tonight.

We have been carrying pasta and packets of pesto all day.

The room starts getting warmer and everyone is in a great mood now.

Kitchen crew is almost done.

We serve each rider a full plate of pasta and some sardines.

It’s still too early but everyone is tired and happy.

There is a word for this feeling I think.

Languor.

Small talk, bad jokes and the first day slowly comes to an end, no clocks needed.

The sun is down and that’s the only sign we need.

Temperature outside is -6.

Inside it’s still warm.

The petrol fumes are making everyone dizzy.

Hence the bad jokes.

We turn it off and call it a day.

Day 2: Loop Around the Peak

We wake up to frozen water bottles, a beautiful sunrise and a cattle herd outside the cabin.

Dawn chorus in full effect.

Kostas appears at the bottom of the mountainside to join us for today’s loop around the peak.

All riders are up and gearing up for the ride.

No emails, no phones ringing.

That hike-a-bike section is still there, but now everyone is well-rested and happy to start the new day.

Group photo.

The first part of the loop is magical.

Moon alike

Cold but sunny.

Crispy morning.

Frozen puddles of water crackle when our tires go over them.

More cows.

A hawk is circling overhead.

Last climb.

We are now at 1750 metres of elevation and surrounded by mountain-peaks.

A quick stop at the top.

A carcass of what seems like a billy-goat.

Nature is metal.

That’s what Jon said.

Dirt roads, country roads, gravel roads..there are no wrong roads to anywhere.

Sea is now in sight.

We went from sea to summit and back to the sea.

Everyone has that secret smile.

Accomplished, full, happy.

This adventure is slowly coming to an end.

We stop at a local tavern for food.

Small talk. Everyone is intertwined.

Real connections.

It’s funny how a day and a half ago some of us didn’t even know each other.

Full of food, brimming with emotions we each pay and head out for the last stretch to get back to the train station.

15kms to go.

It’s all down from here.

One by one, we arrive at the train station to grab the train back to Athens.

It’s now 5.00PM on a Sunday as the train enters the platform.

36 hours ago none of the above had happened.

The clocks never stopped ticking.

They just slowed down.

It all makes sense now.

Time is relative.

LOOSE SPOKES is a bike-packing adventure by VICIOUS CYCLES ATHENS and ENA BAGS.