Three days living in oxygen sealed trade expo domes done. Point Land Rover toward Alps, press go. Exchange the Truman show for the Sound of Music. Roads narrow, wind and steepen. Vistas get better and better. Each elevation revealing an even better snapshot opportunity. Where is critical mass of a mountain ridge line? Not for another few turns. The convoy separated miles ago by aerodynamics, wind noise and fuel tank range. Rental car – 1, Defender -0. Two car loads of American titanium long gone leaving me in their wake grumbling along looking for diesel and finding waves and smiles instead.
The morning after arrival always the reset button for taking in a new surrounding. The long noisy road miles of the night before filtered out by the sound of cowbells, tractors, foreign voices already into the second conversation of the day and the smell of a Swiss breakfast wafting down a cobbled street alluring passers by like the pied piper. It’s on.
Differing rates of readiness.
Just one more.
Odd place for love.
Cars wait for no man. Man waits hours for cars to bugger off.
The glamour.
Moots 35th Anniversary kit, atop the Furka Pass.
Gravel break.
Just one more.
Nothing flattering about that.
Boss.
The shoes. The shoes.
Model’s view at the business end of a photo shoot.
Alpine cobbles.
Novelty wearing off.
Turn into the nature.
It’s not done until the light’s gone.
Cameras down, pedals up. It felt more Reservoir Dogs at the time.
There’s only one rule where chips are concerned – Enough.
Shooting nice product in stunning surroundings with great people. And riding. And big beer. And lots of chips.
An alpine adventure’s end approaching with a rising moon on a clear night in the mountains as the car is re-packed and refuelled for the long way home, or the start of the next alpine adventure…