Because the festival took place in Gdynia, I had the opportunity to visit the recently relocated headquarter of Cumulus - a Polish producer of top of the shelf down sleeping bags. It was quite a personal visit to me - while preparing for our round-the-world trip, I visited the old factory of Cumulus and bought sleeping bags for Anna and myself - they later accompanied us in some of the toughest locations we ventured into. We’ve spent hundreds of nights in our LiteLine 400, including a rather difficult one right below 5000m, near Shingo La Pass in Zanskar, where the mercury dropped well below the bag’s safety rating. The fluffiness of Polish goose down kept us warm throughout the entire journey. Later into the trip, to shave off the weight, we decided to replace the LitLine400 with the zipperless version of XLite 200 and thanks to that we could enjoy over 600g of total weight saving on both of our bags.

As soon as I entered a rather stealth looking building, I was greeted by countless smiles of the staff of Cumulus. I instantly felt a very relaxed atmosphere, and when the CEO of the company, Mr Wylężek welcomed me to his premises, I knew right away that it will be an interesting factory tour.

Cumulus, one of the most renowned Polish down sleeping bags, quilts and down garment producer, started to experiment with modern designs and fabrics already in the 1989 . They implemented Pertex into their line when it was still produced in the UK, that’s the time when its lightest incarnation was almost 5 times as heavy as Quantum GL. At the moment Cumulus offers ultralight equipment using Torray’s Airtastic - one of the lightest downproof woven fabrics available on the market.

I could not resist the temptation to have a look at the production process. I entered a large hall and quietly circled a gigantic table, where one hundred layers of ultrathin textile were stacked upon each other, followed by the pattern of sleeping bags of various constructions. A skilled master cutter effortlessly turned the sandwich of flimsy, silky Pertex into elaborated shapes, right in front of my eyes. I was really impressed how little remnants were left after the cutting. As I learnt later, a special program is used to minimize the waste.

The cut parts of the fabric - and Cumulus uses a variety of them - are later grouped together and sent to the crew responsible for sewing. They apply their magic to the shiny mass of polyamid and in a blink of an eye the empty shells are ready for the next step.

The next step in the life of a sleeping bag is to be filled with what really makes it special - down. Poland is famous of its geese - the harsh winters of the country’s East cause the birds to grow some of the best naturally available insulation. As I was told by my host, the down is sourced in an ethical way (live plucking is forbidden in the EU, unlike in China, where it is still quite common), and its fluffiest fraction is used to trap air inside the chambers of the bags.

Cumulus uses two types of down in their sleeping bags: 700 cuin (primarily in “Alaska”, to deliver a product that would make enjoying the outdoors in the coldest environment slightly more affordable) and this of 850 cuin - that’s practically as lofty as it can be without interfering with its natural properties. The biggest downside of using down is that it looses its properties when it gets wet. To combat that, the company recently started to use the hydrophobic version of down - with great success!

A very sophisticated machine is used to fill the bags. In some cases the bags are filled by hand, to make sure that the insulation is distributed evenly.

Straight from the filling station, each bag goes to a neighboring room, where the final stitches are applied to seal it. Bags are then ready for the quality check.

The sleeping bags (and quilts) are than labeled and packed. To avoid unnecessary compression, the down products from Cumulus are stored and transported in a special mesh bag.

The closer to the summer, the higher is the demand for the products. I was lucky to visit the company right before the peak of the season - there was even enough time to enjoy a moment of celebration - one of the employee’s celebrated his names day and we all enjoyed a home made cake. I was told that such a celebration - when all staff members leave their workplace to eat together, take place quite often.

I had a great time visiting the manufacturer in Gdynia - it does not happen often that I can witness how the products I use every day are being made. I have always had great trust in equipment that is produced out of best available materials, weather it is outdoor related or not. I think that we, the users, have the tendency to take the quality of our gear for granted - we pay high prices for top of the shelf stuff so we expect it to work, often forgetting about the skills of the people who were responsible for its creation. After my meeting with the staff of Cumulus I know how much work it takes to make a sleeping bag, that keeps its user warm in the worst possible conditions. I also learnt how much the atmosphere of a workplace affects the quality of a product - in case of Cumulus the dedication put in the process of making their sleeping bags turns directly into warmth one feels during long, cold nights in the great outdoors.

Disclaimer: I have no ties with Cumulus, the bags that Anna and I have been using were paid by ourselves.

Exploring the canyons was an incredible experience, but our host had even more exciting adventures hidden in his sleeve. The next day we loaded the car with some climbing equipment and decided to see the park from a slightly different perspective.

We felt like little children playing on those rock formations! Well worth a visit!

Half way across Utah, we cycled through the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, a huge area of natural wonders. We had already visited Bryce, and wanted to experience something a bit different, have a bit of our private adventure. Just before Boulder, we discovered a slot canyon (a narrow corridor carved in soft rocks by water and sand) marked on our map - not the most spectacular one, but much closer to the main road then all the other ones. We decided to give it a try!

After an hour or so on a gnarly gravel road, we discovered a narrow trail leading towards what was supposed to be the Zebra Slot Canyon. We managed to cycle towards it for a while, but were forced to push our heavily loaded bikes (we had to carry quite a lot of water to stay on the safe side in that dry environment) the closer we came.

When - after over an hour of pushing and picture taking - we made it to our destination, we were really disappointed. Not only the canyon was pathetically unimpressive - it was flooded by muddy, cold water, making it impossible to pass through.

After a bit of scouting and map gazing, we decided not to come back to the main road where we came from (we are too stubborn to ride the same path twice), but to find a way that could lead to another gravel road that would eventually put us back on track.

When we finally pushed our bikes up a really steep dome-like hill, we discovered that we were right in the middle of a pathless, rocky desert. Welcome to the slickrock hell!

As far as we could see, there was that flat, wavy surface, interrupted only by patches of loose sand or odd, round rocks. Looking like pale, orange lava it was strangely tempting to have a ride on.

With absolutely no idea if we could continue riding all the way to the gravel road lying 10 kilometers ahead, we plunged into that moon-like no man’s land. Not the smoothest surface to ride, but solid, challenging yet fun.

Some sections of the rocks were as flat as a table and looked like being covered in terracotta.

Unfortunately, from time to time we had to push our bikes over a dune or two, lift it over a gap in the rocks or climb a hill to find the best spots to ride through.

There was no presence of humans there - no path marked, no signs, no trash left by careless visitors. We navigated using our phone and the compass, trying to guess where to go.

As always during spontaneous adventures, we overestimated our abilities to ride in a totally unrideable terrain. The sun was high up when we decided to take a break. Usually at that time of the day we would be lying somewhere, pouring water over our clothes to avoid a heat stroke. This time there was no time to waste - we had a WarmShowers host waiting for us in Boulder and we promised him to meet in the afternoon.

We had some of the rock structures marked on our map, but there was no track there to guide us through that dry, slickrock maze.

It was tough. At one moment, we were super tired and started to get dehydrated. We went too far to go back. There was no other option but to continue.

After some hours of pushing, we were so exhausted that we stopped paying attention to the changing surroundings. It was a right moment to find water, and the time was running!

We drunk the last sips of precious liquid when we spotted a perfect place to refill our bottles. We passed by a few spots with standing water - the rock we cycled on is not permeable, so there were puddles of brown, stinky water here and there. We knew that in the worst case we could sterilize it, but our noses told us to wait.

We stopped at a little oasis, with two large trees and a pocket of water. It took us nearly 2 hours to fill up the containers we carry. Filtering of dirty water requires a lot of work and patience!

We rested a bit and continued cycling. Amazing how much your mood depends on fluids!

We quite enjoyed the area - there is nothing quite like being alone in the wilderness. We had a lot of fun cycling through that landscape, it was totally new to us. But after over 5 hours of constant labor, when we progressed only 8 kilometers, we had enough.

We had moments when we just wanted to abandon our bikes.

But after a whole day of pushing we finally made it to the road to Boulder. Our host started to worry a bit, so he drove towards us. When he stopped his car to welcome us, holding a huge jug of icy-cold water, we felt happy and thankful! We learned that the true adventure, the unforgettable one, leaves you with this strange mixture of joy, exhaustion and a relieve that it is over. We looked at each other, happy, and at the same time said: “never again!”.

As we were getting closer, we realized, that we entered an area of some truly dramatic landscapes, a place like no other. We could see, that what had been a seabed hundreds of millions years ago, turned into a maze of rock pillars, arches and gorges. Restless streams of water, carrying tiny grains of sand, patiently, layer after layer, cut into the surface of soft rock.

We stopped to have lunch in an awfully touristy complex of restaurants, some kilometers before Bryce. We decided to let our empty bellies turn the utterly overpriced french fries into glucose-based rocket fuel for our tired muscles, and waited through the burning heat of the mid day. We slowly cycled towards the visitor center, and were happy to discover free wifi. We were deliberately super lazy that day. We wanted to see the canyon during the sunset.

We cycled through an ordinary forest, not more special than any other coniferous forest in Utah. Then we followed a path for the visitors, leading from a parking area to the edge of the place. To the very last moment, to the last few steps, we could only see the rim and the blue sky. And then, out of the sudden, there it was:

A huge area of dreamlike landscape. Part of Bryce’s magic is its location, being so well hidden, just like a gigantic crater waiting to be discovered.

We were stunned by the beauty of the unearthly shapes of the rock pillars and comb-like ridges, their layers of colors, ranging from pale pink, through all shades of orange and red, to deep brown. We have never seen anything like that in our lives. We decided to place our Helinox chairs right on the edge, and quietly enjoyed the view.

We made a quick decision - sunrise at Bryce! We went to find a quiet place to put up our tent, set our alarm clocks to 4AM and went to bed. It was well worth it!

It was still dark when we packed our tent and slowly rolled to see the sun rising over the strange structures of Bryce.

So hard to believe, that this is planet Earth!

No matter where we went, no matter how long we stared at those crazy stalactite-like structures, we could not believe, that a place like this exists.

We finally let our eyes rest a bit, and after a perfect cup of cappuccino, decided to carry on.

Yes, it was dry and almost as hot as Nevada. But in Utah at least we could find shadow to hide during the hottest hours.

We were happy to finally see some cacti. Contrary to what you might think, they were of no threat to our tires. Some other plants unfortunately were - meet the goatheads:

Those nasty little spikes litter the roads of Utah. The thorns of the little nutlets are short but very sharp and hard to break. They wait quietly and well camouflaged for the cyclists, to strike in the least expected moment. They often attack in hordes, and even the thickest Schwalbe Marathon touring tires can’t stop them. The only way to prevent the goathead punctures is to add sealant to your tubes, or simply go tubeless.

We welcomed the ever-changing, colorful rock formations of Utah with a huge smile - after days spent in rather flat Nevada, our tired slash bored brains needed some stimuli.

We were also welcomed very warmly by the inhabitants of Utah, both the cute ones:

…and those slightly less appealing:

The state turned out to be scattered with breathtaking landscapes. We purchased an annual pass to all american national parks, so that we could visit as many as possible on our route through the country.

In Utah we could experience a bit of an alternative lifestyle of its inhabitants. The locals turned out to be very hospitable, we had some of our best experiences with the Warm Showers Community there. How cool is this, living in a yurt for over 20 years, raising two kids and growing your own vegetables!

We cycled through the state much slower then we planned - there way more places to stop and take a picture than we thought!

In our next posts, we will focus more on particular places, national parks we visited and our adventures.

The traffic on some roads was almost non existing, so we had them all to ourselves!

We quite enjoyed cycling on dead-empty, desert highways.

The lack of water and really high temperatures forced us to find shelter during the hottest time of the day. But how do you hide from the sun when there is absolutely nothing around? You have to improvise and build your own roof!

We knew quite well how to conserve our energy - we learnt it hard while cycling through Australia. In Nevada we drunk over 8 liters of water a day and in the hottest hours, poured it over our clothes, to help our bodies cool down.

It was amazing to cycle long stretches among the dry hills (some of the mountain ranges actually still remain unnamed and were never ever hiked!).

Oh Nevada, you are a special place!

As the days passed by, we were rolling towards the next American state. We liked the barren landscape, weird plants and the freedom to camp wherever we wanted, but we were extremely happy to see our first trees again! That is the beauty of cycling - you get used to the land you travel through but you are happy to have a change after a while.

Goodbye Nevada…

…Utah - here we go!

The first look at the map of Nevada will give you a feeling of cycling over there - long, straight roads, that seem to have no ending. Luckily we confronted our demons in the past, so long stretches of burning hot asphalt were of no threat to our sanity. We learnt how to focus on positive thoughts in the moments like that, and just carried on.

From time to time we could focus on a feature of the landscape - an abandoned village, a bullet ridden road sign, a space-ship-like solar power plant.

To our luck, we had a bit of an overcast to protect us from the burning rays of the sun. With a bit of a tailwind, the only thing that was missing was an auto-pilot built into our bikes!

Finding a camp spot on the desert is always easy - all we have to do is to spot a piece of land big enough for our tent between spiky bushes. In the US wild camping on public land is totally OK, but with much higher traffic (and spectators) than in Australia, we had to hide a bit not to be disturbed too much.

The landscape of Nevada reminded us a lot of the one in Xinjiang, China!

From time to time, when being slow enough to spot an animal, we could sight eagles, desert foxes (like the ones below) or antelopes.

Not as sparsely populated as the Red Center of Australia, Nevada was much easier to stock up on food and water. Almost every day we had a chance to resupply, find phone reception or even wifi.

There were no trees for us to hide under - the only plants higher than our bikes were Joshua Trees.

These intricate plants grow on the West of the US and are the only protection from the sun one can find.

Almost every day in Nevada was the same - we had a mountain range to cross waiting for us at the end of every long stretch of a straight road. We were guaranteed to see yet another long stretch after the downhill…

Tired after cycling in the desert the routines of setting up camp and preparing dinner were calling us every evening before we could finally get a proper night rest:

We saw a lake on our map. After a brief search on Google it turned out that it is well known for its lime formations - tufas. We decided to have a look, and slowly rolled towards it following quiet, gravel roads.

The Mono lake (as it is called) turned out to be a real gem!

With a very dry vegetation and almost no trees surrounding it, it looked really prehistoric.

There were some chimney-like lime structures scattered around on the shore of the lake. We had a chance to get really close and examine them.

They reminded us a lot of the termite mounds in the Northern Territory of Australia.

Some of those fascinating lime structures were over 8 meters high!

We pedaled away from the lake, and after spending some time in a truly arid landscape, we were happy to see trees again.

The next day we started our ride towards our second American state - Nevada. The landscape started to change quite rapidly, with less and less trees grown on the sides of the road and after a while small, dull-green bushes dominated the area we cycling through. We were definitely entering the desert!

June in California is a rather rainless month. We cycled through bone-dry landscapes of grass-covered hills, almond plantations and tiny villages. It was hot.

Our first days in the US were full of surprises. It is a nice feeling to discover a new country, with all its oddities and stereotypical features.

Famous American national parks were waiting for us. For an equivalent of 80 dollars we got the annual access to all of them. The only problem was which one to choose!

The first one on our list was Yosemite NP, famous of its barren, hundred-meter-high lime walls, ancient pines and spruces as well as breathtaking waterfalls.

Such special places are always magnets for tourists. It was not easy to be left alone, to have it all to ourselves. But since it was not our first national park, we managed to find less beaten paths and enjoy the power of nature.

From all the mammals inhabiting Yosemite NP, we only sighted the cute ones.

We continued cycling through the park (it turned out to be much bigger than we thought) and found ourselves surrounded by naked-rock peaks and deep coniferous forests.

We followed the rules (this time) and stayed at the official campsite. To be honest, the only reason why we decided to do so, was the presence of black bears in the area. They sneak into the campsite attracted by the smell of food. Special steel lockers are provided by the staff, and all edible products, cosmetics and even toothpaste must be stored in them overnight to keep the furry visitors away.

Snow covered peaks, pristine mountain lakes - so different from the dry paddocks we cycled through just 2 days before.

We have not been cycling on high(ish) altitude since Indonesia, so it was nice to feel a bit of a buzz and a pleasant shortness of breath once again. We love mountains!

We left the park and rolled down on a smooth and super steep road, where Mat broke his personal downhill record - 81km/h! There is no better feeling than zipping down along the majestic peaks on a loaded bike, being faster than cars.

We wished we could spend a bit more time in Yosemite, do a bit of hiking, maybe climb a peak or two, but there was so much more to see…