The continuing saga… I have had the privileged in my life to see and do many things that most Americans never do. I lived in Italy and “sailed” the Mediterranean Sea in my youth, courtesy of the US Navy. Even this, I do not believe was the beginning of my adventuresome spirit, I think it was, possibly a hard wiring in my personality? Maybe had to do with genetic predisposition passed down from my Swedish heritage, and where this story will focus.
As some know, I have attended the BonnevilleAmerica.com Euro Rally on what has now been, three separate occasions. Using credit card miles and abusing the hospitality of my friends by sleeping on their couches or kicking them out of their beds, I have been privileged to share the road and friendship of some very fine people known to this site.
My first adventures were put to pen as I followed Thanassis (Bedouin) around a significant portion of Europe and there met site folks for the first time on their home content in Italy in 2008. The second rally I attended was held in Thurnam, England in 2013 where I again met friends from the Italian Rally, but now with them touring the twisty hedgerow lined narrow roads of the English countryside and visiting the famed Ace Cafe in London and the White Cliffs of Dover to name but a few. This group that attends the Euro Rally? Well, they are an adventuresome lot to be certain, with a quest for adventure and long haul travels. They are a very tight knit and wonderful group of men and women to be certain, all of whom I consider friends and look forward to seeing each time I have opportunity.
In 2016, it fell to the Swedes to host the 2016 Euro Rally. Johann (Gooseman) and Bengt (Piper) are folks whom I have met and remain in contact frequently enough (As I do with quite a few on the site) I knew this trip was going to be difficult to pull off but I wanted to visit the land of my ancestors, if it was at all possible. Early in 2016 I went through a life changing event and determined it was time to leave my career as a Flight Paramedic behind, no matter what the out come was, it was time. I had planned to go to the Swedish Euro Rally in 2015, and now...life, it was unsure of anything of such “opulence” could, or should be attempted.
Since I already had a plane ticket set aside, a commitment for a couch at Johann & Nilla’s and Johann allowing me the use his bike... I decided, this may be my last opportunity to make such a trip. My wife gave me her blessing and off I went!
Now this story will take on so much depth because not only was it about riding a Triumph America through Sweden and meeting old friends, it would also include incredible coincidences and the most unsuspected of outcomes and new adventures!
Now the specific location of the rally was unknown to me prior to my decision to go and my ancestral connection was not specifically known to Johann before he choose the rally site.
A month before the rally, when I finally committed to make the trip, Johann asked me if I knew where my family came from? I told him the name of villiages and he replied back to me, “Eddy, the place where the rally will be held is 20 minutes from where your family came from!” I was astonished, well how cool is that? I told him about the place where my family name came from as my great, great, great grandfather had changed his name to Hofstrand based on the name of the castle which he served at (Hofdala Castle) while in service of the King of Sweden (as the story goes) and “strand” which came from the Swedish word for “beach” where his home was located on the lake that provided water for the castle moat. Johann responded again...”Eddy, this castle is where our Saturday ride is going to!”
The trip came together and I arrived in Gothenburg, the city where my family had departed from Sweden. Met by Johann and Nilla we traveled to their home in Varnamo.
Johann and I did a little pre-rally riding, to the Island of Oland (Pronounced Erland) there we met up with Nilla and another Euro Rally traveler, Tollie. Johann, Tollie and I traveled to the northern end of the island for a days ride. We camped at a Swedish bed and breakfast owned by some friends of Johann where we enjoyed classic Swedish hospitality, enjoying the sites and sounds of this Baltic Sea Island and made new friends.
After returning to Varnamo, we journeyed to Stockholm for a night and took a boat tour with Johann’s sister and brother in law, quite fun! Stockholm's sea faring history is clear, even to this day, an active seaport, busy with ferry boat and cruise ship traffic as well has personal water craft of every imaginable kind. On the way back to Varnamo, we stopped for a visit at a motorcycle museum that hosted some of the best restorations and of motorcycles I have ever seen, including those at the American Motorcycle Museum in Anamosa Iowa!
Back in Varnamo, we awaited the arrival of Martyn Cleaver who was returning from an attempt to cross Russia to Mongolia but was cut short due to mechanical problems with his BMW and not being able to make the allotted timeline for the crossing and still make the rally in Hasselholm, Sweden. Jackie, Martyns wife arrived via cage and the reunion of friend and husband was quite wonderful! Nothing like being among friends after a long trip.
Most Americans have not traveled in countries where finding someone who speaks English is the exception, rather than the rule. Martyn’s trip took him to places where English spoken as a second language was rare, this leaves one at the mercy of translation books and the good will of those you encounter along the road. The solitude of the road and isolation due to the ability of freely being able to communicate, leaves one grateful beyond words to meet friends once again.
The rally site was at a motorcycle centered campground, as the folks arrived in their travel groups, the Brits, the Pol’s, the Germans and then... then the Greek! Handshakes and hugs quick catch up’s and sit downs, meeting new folks, the stuff and substance of every rally, no matter the location on the planet.
Our rides together, are the same no matter where the destination is, folks sharing the love of the ride, the love of the road, and good company. The Swedish roadways this time, offer me something a little different and unexpected. My father was very proud and big on his study of the family's Swedish heritage. For me, my Swedish heritage was cool but the thought of “old, dead guys” had no real appeal to me, no real connection. This was about to change in a very profound and unexpected way.
As we traversed the winding Swedish roadways of my “ancestral origins”, the very towns and villages where my family originated from one thing was clear to me, these were the very roads, they walked, rode horses, buggies or whatever conveyance they used in the pre-automobile days, aside from the new pavement, it was clear, these were the very same roads used for 100 years. As we drove by hay fields, farming plots and pastures, I could not help but imagine my Great, Great Grandfather making hay, or stacking stone for... “that stone fence”. Or my Great Grandfather walking along this very road, kicking stones as he walked as a young boy. I was emotionally moved in a way I was not prepared for...I felt the connection to this place. It was more than just another location on the planet that I had now added to my list of places touched...this place, this place where those who came before me and were directly connected to me...touched me.
The Saturday ride to Hofdala (in modern Swedish now spelled Hovdala) the place where my Great, Great, Great Grandfather Per, had served 10 years in the Army, this place that he called home, the place that for unknown reasons in family tradition, was where he changed his name to reflect this place. We rode through the tower gate not open to vehicle traffic but afforded to us, likely the place where Per Hofstrand may have ridden his horse through to the court yard...maybe the emotion of these moments was clear to my Euro friends and oblivious to me, but my friends clearly understood this was a special time for me and were incredibly respectful of these moments.
Via Facebook a family member from Sweden contacted me and arranged to meet me at the castle. Lars and Kersten met me and took by car to all the family homes from the past, some of which had actual structures still remaining from more than 100 years ago. I was given a detail of the family story by these cousins.
What I can say from my experience is this, our family connection is stronger than we may realize. In America, possibly in other parts of the world as well, we have lost something of value in the development of the “Nuclear Family”, the disconnect with the heritage “our people”...our extended family, our story.
So this is the close of this element of my saga. Oh it was not the end of the trip, the rally, the time visiting with established friends and getting to learn more about others and new friends...all a blast and full of life. "Making history" as Bedouin would say.
But what is a trip without spending time with Bedouin? Johann was called back to work prematurely and I had a few days left. I asked Johann how far away Norway was? He said “where in Norway?” I replied, “just over the border so I could put my toe there!”, Bedouin who was sitting next to Johann said, “Well, we will go up to Oslo”, and that was that and that is what we did! What makes an adventure on a motorcycle or anything in life? Coming to a “T” in the road and making a left or a right...without a plan or expected outcome! Once again I found myself traveling the highways and city streets on a quest for the "City Center" to take a picture of the motorcycles on foot traffic only squares! When traveling with Bedouin, hooliganism is not an option, it IS a requirement!
How do you know you are enjoying yourself on a motorcycle? When you ride for hours in soaking rain, cold, saturated but still having a smile on your face! When I say saturated, I mean boots, so full of water that you can poor it out, jackets that lost their ability to shed water hours ago and now weigh more that 30 lbs on their own! Insanity? Maybe, but being so into the ride that is just short of suffering...pure enjoyment of the heart...this is a piece of life, making history with Bedouin!
To all my Euro friends, again I say thank you! I look forward to the day when we can again share the road, on your continent, or on mine...but to see you all again, this side of the dirt, will be grand!
Eddy's Euro Rally Photo's Fast Eddy
Motorcycle Travel Route
