Greece is the word is the word

After breakfast I headed out into the sticks, nowhere in particular, but I wanted to head towards Mt Olympus. Instead of taking the main roads I stuck to the twisties again, every now and again I would come across an interesting side road. Being curious I took many of these roads, which more often than not turned into trails. This was how the next couple of the days went, following the many many miles of trails into unknown territory, I didn’t really care where I ended up, as long as I always had a decent amount of fuel in the tank before I started off down the trails.

Some of the trails went through farm land, while others hugged the coast line, others crossed shallow riverbeds, some were very muddy, and others were bone dry. The trails interlinked the many villages that were scattered around the mountains, the occasional 4x4 would come the opposite way, and the drivers always gave a wave. It was a pleasure to ride on these roads/trails legally without the hassle of ramblers and other do gooders that think legal trails are only there for them to use. So, not one confrontation with the do gooders, or police, occurred and everyone I came across gave me a wave and a smile.

Once again once again, the little backwhack roads turned out to be some of the best I have ridden on. Good surfaces, really twisty, almost devoid of traffic, beautiful and sunny, no speed cameras and no coppers waiting to hand tickets out for naughty offences.

Towards the end of a couple of days riding I found Mt Olympus, I couldn’t really miss it as it is the highest mountain in Greece, plus, it was never lost to start with. I was looking forward to investigating the famous mountain the next day; I heard there was a very rough road that led to the summit, we’ll see.