Driving a cross bike in the Rhodope Mountains is an adrenaline experience based in the nature. Only in few European places you’ll meet mules, sheep and shepherds while driving a bike. Dressed in jacket, trousers, gloves and helmet on even a hot summer day we skim through shady forests over vast mountains, through roaring rivers, along the lakeshores and on sloping ditches and slopes along home made trails or on trails just in front of us. Here are steep and winding driveways and narrow descents. We move stock and stone. The upper torso is slightly bent over the bars and the buttocks almost lifted from the seat not to act as a piston. Thumbs buckles – convulsively. The point is to keep the tongue straight into the mouth and to have a focused conversation with the inner daredevil. The machines are off on a high-altitude plateau. A needed break, where we once again confirm each other in that this stuff is funny and tell cock-and-bull stories about the hazards and threats we have conquered. Adrenaline pump steamer and we experience a breathtaking view and an extremely silence. Suddenly we hear the sound of working bees, a cow or sheep bell. It has always been like that. The contrast is obvious.