report

From Náchod it was uphill again, with skis in hand and sledges on our backs. The snow was light, but the rocky terrain around the infantry logs would have significantly overgrooved the already well-grooved ski. I enjoyed the views from the famous Birch Bunker and the variety of the surrounding terrain, knowing that the first serious section on tarmac would soon be coming. The fields were...

In the dark days, in the throes of a familiar virus, when our playground had shrunk to the county line, an urgent desire to disrupt the rhythm of that song of my life and kick the beat back up a bit grew inside me. Originally, Lapland was calling me, but my district didn't extend there. Nor did it reach to Havířov, where my dear wife comes from, but the smell of segedin from my mother-in-law Eva...