Hult - Eksjö

Last chance to look away – racing bike in Småland

Hult, or at least it felt like it was shortly after sunrise. It's midday. The air is cold, the asphalt is hungry. A racing bike rolls off as if it doesn't know what's in store. After an idyllic ride along the lakes, Bellö is passed in record time, but who wants to stay here? The cows stare, something between contempt and boredom. They probably have more survival instinct than anything with two wheels.

Then: The 90s Road. A brilliant idea for anyone bored with life. Trucks thunder past, the breeze turns nerves into rubber. Road traffic: a game where the one with more horsepower usually wins.

Eksjö, a postcard town, actually nice. But those who come here are rarely looking for postcards. The break is short, the way back leads over gravel – supposedly "idyllic," but in reality just a training camp for the next slipped disc. Potholes bigger than self-preservation. At least: no truck honking at you into the afterlife.

Arrival in Hult. The bike is still alive. So is the rider—at least on the outside. The lesson of the day: 90 km/h roads are perfect places to think about better life choices. Gravel? At least the funeral is more discreet.