It leads to the trail that is the only way to get to Treriksröset where Sweden, Norway and Finland meet. I walk up to my motorcycle but linger a bit to reflect on everything that has passed through my eyes the past three weeks. There it stands, my perhaps unexpected companion for this journey, the Kawasaki z800. The sporty naked bike, which has taken me through all of Sweden, 7080.26 kilometers and 21 days to be exact since the parking lot in Smygehuk.

The helmet is still on the seat, and together with the motorcycle, it gazes out over the now peaceful lake. Maybe they are pondering, just like me, about what they have seen and experienced. Countless highways, mountains, villages, and vast landscapes. Over water and through water. I ride back to the hotel, maneuvering through a herd of reindeer along the way. In front of me in the parking lot, a lone reindeer stands a few meters away, staring at me. I look back and wonder how he sees me in my leather jacket and helmet, sitting on the motorcycle.

It took over 7000 kilometers (4350 miles) and 21 days to drive between Smygehuk and Treriksröset, the most southern and northern points of Sweden. This journey wasn't started for fun, but for love, corny as it seems. But not because my heart was beating for someone at the far end of my long-stretched country, but because I wanted to rediscover the desire and joy for Sweden again.

I was bored with Sweden, my country felt tame and in my mind extremely mediocre. Nothing within its borders sparked curiosity in me anymore. As a travel photographer and journalist, I've covered large parts of our country. I've documented most of our ski resorts and mountains for nearly 20 years. But in the same profession, it was also the big mountains that I sought, usually in Europe, the USA, or Japan. That’s where all the exciting adventures happened.

This is what made me hit the roads in Sweden. To rediscover the desire to explore my own country and at the same time find some truly fantastic roads to ride, from north to south. Or rather, as it turned out, from south to north. This isn't the classic motorcycle journey you otherwise read about in books or see on social media. I'm not traveling through jungles, having boxing fights with kangaroos, or flicking scorpions out of my boots every morning. I don't have tons of luggage and spare parts with me, and surprisingly, no big adventure motorcycle that tends to be an obligatory norm nowadays. I'm riding a naked bike, with only a small 30L pack and a backpack with cameras. That's all I needed to get through Sweden, just me, the motorcycle, new winding roads, and for the first time in a long time, a curiosity and sense of adventure ahead of me.

This is the first piece out of two covering the best from this journey.

Day one, and I’m following Utvandrarnas väg, or “Path of the emigrants”, as translated, through the forests of Småland. This is the path that countless Swedes traveled south towards the coast to enter boats for a dream of finding a better life in America. Over a million Swedes emigrated, a substantial part of the population in the middle of the 1800s, and the event has greatly affected both nations’ history. The first stop of my journey was Öland, but the road getting there was not as easy as I thought it would be. First of all, Utvandrarnas väg is not on any official map, and the road signs are very sparse. It is almost as if they don't want people to get the idea of emigrating again. Eventually, I find the right path through a low-resolution map I downloaded and cruise contentedly through the almost magical forest. The sun creates intriguing shadows and fills the helmet with its scents, it is magical. In my mind, I see all these people who made their way down to the boats to Karlshamn exactly where I am now riding. Perhaps not the most curvy roads, but its atmosphere and historical significance make me enjoy the ride fully with a big smile on my face. 

The third day of the journey offers a short but one of the best roads of the entire trip. Whether one wants to admit it or not, everyone knows that mom knows best. Following her advice, I choose a new route from Öland back into the depths of Småland, which turns out to be a goldmine. Bruksgatan, which runs from Norrhult-Klavreström to Ramkvilla, is extremely curvy, winding, and rolling. It's like riding a motorcycle on a roller coaster, and thank god for a sporty naked bike in this. The road to Landsbro is also not to be looked down at, and the last kilometers to the Husqvarna museum are done with a ridiculously large smile, politician style. At the Husqvarna museum, you can enjoy their motorcycle legacy as well as other manufactured products, such as guns as early as the late 1600s.

The fourth day takes me back southwest and several days of pure motorcycle joy. By chance while on other travels, I discovered the road between Fegen and Vessigebro, via Krogsered. My whole body tingles, not because of dairy products and gluten, but from sheer joy. Excited that I finally get to ride the road I’ve longed for so long. It doesn’t have the same sharp curves and rolling landscapes as Bruksgatan, but with a more enjoyable flow. A day like this, when the sun is out, this road is a must. Later visits to Vessigebro have made me realize that the whole area is teeming with these chocolate-sauce winding delicious roads.

Say what you will about social media, but sometimes it delivers golden nuggets. I got the great tip to continue through Vessigebro and head north after Falkenberg and onto the road around Lake Lygnern. For once, I’m glad I listened to others besides Mom, what a nature experience this route is. It is like riding straight into a rainforest, and I have to get off the motorcycle to really take in the experience. In a moment, I’m transported straight into ancient Amazonas; it’s completely silent, and the only sound is a faint wind rustling through the treetops. It’s nice to escape the sound of the engine and my rumbling Akrapović system for a while. The road around Lygnern is not completely straight but has small curves and fine asphalt. When you ride north on the eastern side of the lake, you climb to higher heights, and the view around Sätila is magical. 

The next day, the fifth, is also a tip from Social Media about what is supposed to be Sweden’s best motorcycle road. After spending the day on the spider web of fine roads and lakes somewhere between Mellerud and Årjäng, I roll expectantly through Nössemark after disembarking the small road ferry and then turn left towards Ed. On a blue sign, it says, “ED 31,” though it should say, “ED 31 kilometers of pure f*king joy.” Right after, a warning sign warns/encourages me for curvy roads ahead; it makes one’s heart warm. I continue through fantastic curves, along waterways, and over hills on this chocolate-sauce winding gold vein of a road. The road gives me a workout that never seems to end; I lay the motorcycle down in curve after curve. 

It might be my euphoria, but I don’t think I’m on a straight stretch anywhere, just more curves and even more laughter. I finally arrive in Ed with the biggest grin I’ve ever had and am completely exhausted from using my whole body in every curve. I can’t believe I was almost completely alone the entire way. I down a can of energy drink, and ride back again towards Nössemark. I just have to ride this road over and over again, I don’t want to stop. I don’t know who you are who built this road, but thank you. Either you were paid per meter, or you ride motorcycles yourself and seized the opportunity. I am eternally grateful. Before heading to my shelter for the night I stay for late lunch and early dinner in Ed while watching the cruising event pass through the village streets. I wonder if cruising events have always been a chance to get ridiculously wasted, imitate the sound of a moose in heat, and show off your old Volvo with no significant bodywork other than duct tape to hold the rustiest parts in place. Or if it once was to show off beautiful cars that you worked on. Evolution sure is strange sometimes.

Words & Photography: Johan Stahlberg