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What’s the deal

Ljubljana

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Muslauf — 02

Goes Abroad — 03

Muslauf goes abroad.The tale of the princess and the five »princess’ donuts«

(A composition for two voices to remember and honour that trip)

It was Saturday, the thirteenth of September two thousand and fourteen years after the birth of Yeshu'a. Although the organizational wheels of our trip starter turning some long time ago, they were turning really fast that day. At least for me. I am not sure about the actions and work involved in the days before – with the exception of Friday, when I acquired a bigger vehicle with four wheels and an engine, which I am not quite used to – but I can tell you the story that took place in the days to come. Over the nine hills, and countless waters we couldn't count, since it was raining, starts our tale about the Princess and the five princess’ donuts. Let me tell you, brave listener, this adventure wasn't a coincidence. Oh no. It was well planed in advance. It all began in the month of the blossoming flowers, when the fellow knights from the county of the Kino Siska valley invited us to join them in the quest that would take us abroad, well-deep within the borders of neighbour lands. Our whole team gathered at a relatively early morning hour – 10 am. This might not be a definition of early, but Friday was full of stress related events regarding the anticipation of our ten-day companionship. Our group was comprised of Ajda, Andraz, Marko, Domen, Bor and me, Marko. We loaded the light delivery vehicle. The load was an enviable quantity of tools, approximately one hundred kilograms of iron, steel and supplies and ultimately, our seven bikes. For months had the sweaty foreheads of metal workers been forging tubes, until they reached the end of the lists of our demands. The blueprint for what was to become their vehicle of choice for the hills and roads that awaited ahead. Roads that would take them through lands and lands until they'd have reached their goal and put their hearts to rest. The route from Ljubljana towards the north started only one hour after the time, which was defined in the work plan prepared by Marko – the rigorous president of the Muslauf club. It is worth mentioning at this point, that everything happened because of the Muslauf club, which, as I learned later, has its own purpose. The expected travel time was estimated to be about three and a half hours, but we managed to reach our destination in about five. That was due to many stops we had to make at every gas station because of checking if our bikes are still stacked the way they were supposed to, when we loaded them in.

It was Saturday — 04

at relatively early morning hour — 05

The Journey — 06

Hallein With this desire and the storm of an adventurous heart they began the journey. Each of them took a horse of choice from their vast barns and put him on our caravan. A shiny lion shone to show us the way, as the drops of rain were beating at the sides like a hand trying to grasp us and pull us back home. But they fought and fought. And mile after mile, kilometre after kilometre and moment after moment; but after five hours they were there... At the first stop of they journey. At the gas station they each bought a cup of coffee to give them strength and sharp vision so they would truly reach their goal. So who were those brave souls, you may ask me, that took the journey of the built? First the Princess, The princess of the five donuts Fortuna Orbis, than the president, our ruler himself whom we all called Markolo, then Tarman, the sharp-eyed visionary, Ožbi and Maki were our loyal eyes, hands and feet, and me, the humble storyteller, one of the two brave ones who will share what went on those nights. Days and nights that were illuminated by the blinding dust of chips, sparks and welding machines. That took the night away to our shelters, only to bring back the light of dawn, only to show that the pile of iron lying there the night before slowly started to take shape, and day by night, circle after circle became two vehicles. Our own little Crystal ships. And there was brotherhood again. And the desire to raise our anchors again and begin the trip. We were headed to ride the seven flooded fields, the ten damned hills, the two days of road and the one desire to go home, after our journey was over... To the land where our princess of the donuts returned. The land that we called home. Despite our delay, people in Hallein accepted us open handed. We could not hide our enthusiasm about the building where Schmiede festival took place. This was followed by signing some paperwork, which we could not really understand because of overall use of German language in Austria. After the pictures they took of us for their “wall”, we had a little tour of the festival premises. We were excited about organizers giving us more than one hundred and fifty square meters of working spaces with amazing high ceilings. Our excitement faded when we learned we would have to share those. Nonetheless, in the days to come we were to have many opportunities to meet some interesting, as well as uninteresting people. In the late evening, we dined at an Austrian-Italian-Indian restaurant with a Mexican name. Later that evening – quite some time passed while we were at “dinner” – we headed to our bungalows, which offered us comfort and warmth of an average home for the next seven days.

Begins — 07

sunday Our idea about weekends meaning a two days rest went south shortly after we reached the age of majority (adulthood). That’s why we started with our work – or at least preparations – on the Lord’s Day. We established our work site, became familiar with shops – all were closed – and after our first eco–bio vegan lunch, also got familiar with restaurants and the lack of those in this small Austrian town. And yeah, even those were closed. At this point we were saved by Bor’s beef jerky. Sunday went on slowly and quietly. So the only thing that stood between us was the last few days. The days that were to distinguish the men from boys, the gem from the dust, and the builders from catalogue pictures. So there we were. Five donuts without the princess... but still the song that reminded us of her on our lips. The infinite desire in the face of absolute perfection. Now cold as iron rods that we brought to live by giving them heat and welding them together... just like the heat she brought to our hearts. And our hands raised in the air, only to show to where the tiles would be laid.

Monday (and all tHe otHer days) Unlike Sunday, today almost all the stores and restaurants were opened. Our work began. At one point we determined we do not need to take all the parts for trikes assembly from Ljubljana. Oh yeah, we went to Hallein to build trikes. The price for one kilogram of bolts in Austria differs from Slovenia for about 0,5 per cent. While Bor and Andraz were already diligently assembling their trikes, others were responsible for minor although indispensable tasks that brought the whole team together. Ajda professionally and responsibly put two hundred and sixteen spokes in their assigned place, Marko – the president – was successfully diverting attention from Bor and Andraz, so they could work in peace. Domen had proven himself with filming and documenting the experience and I was driving around Hallein and its surroundings with my bike and the van trying to meet the team’s demands. I think they were pleased with my courier work. I even managed to find a strip club that we never went to, because of all the work that had to be done. Every time I returned to our temporary workshop from my travels, the trikes were nearing completion. First slowly, later with a logarithmic change of speed, most of our work was done by Thursday. In front of us stood two brand new, handmade trikes, assembled by Bor’s skilful hands and Andraz’s one keen eye. We test drove the trikes all night, so we could share the experience and propose solutions that would help overcoming the route and obstacles that stood in our way. Although we did work all the time, we found some time for leisure and fun. We eternalized one of the best nights I spent last year with our traditional game – The Kryptonite toss – which due to combination of circumstances and bright ideas, was played in salt.

Oh yeah, we went to Hallein — 08

to build trikes — 09

The excitement of the adrenalin — 010

The rush of the journey — 011

The route and the dream — 012

The votes were called. The dice was thrown. We each decided to rely on our super powers. Domen, the documentary one, decided to use his super power of figuring out the weight of things, only by relying on his sight. A really helpful feature between bike builders and messengers. Maki, using only his brain could remember and provide all sorts of things we came up with, Tarman presented his new line of advanced protective eyewear and me, myself, I used my laser eye skills and before you can say 4:20 with our devotions to the president and name, we had our rolling beauties. There wasn't a single moment we were willing to loose. The decision was taken. The next morning we were heading toward our goal. So let's head to the tents and rest, because tomorrow we are heading towards our goals. » I want to be ready«. The sound of raindrops promised a rhythm full of water again. As we came we were destined to leave. But we went. We wouldn't let our journey be victim of the nature wet’s dream.

tHe route After Friday’s and Saturday’s last adjustments and improvements on the trikes, Sunday, the twenty first day of September, was the day to take on the one hundred and eighty kilometre long route from Hallein to Munich. We loaded the van with tools, gear, consumables and the rest of the supplies and went on our way to lake Chiemsee. Although the first day’s ride was tedious and tiring, we managed to take it with ease as we knew the next day’s route will be even harder to take on. The thrill of going toward the unknown. Our only light was the pale light of the navigating system telling us where to go. Such Garmin, much rules. Our path was stopped by what seemed to be only a handful of random moments that seemed to be there only to test us. It was only those mechanics that seemed to be overwhelmed by the power of miles. Our hearts were still. Our throats ready to throw the roar of battle. Our hands were holding tight to the fake leader grips. Water dripping through our fingers. We knew we were ready. At that traffic light. I knew it was coming. I could feel the light on my hands. AAAAAnd green. I could feel my legs going. 1,25 km per hour, 2 and than 3... slowly picking up to 20. The excitement of the adrenalin, the rush of the journey. The path led us across Austrian planes, beautiful landscapes and some ascents and descents that were out of this world. We had luck with the weather, which held on despite the weatherman’s poor forecast. The rain apparently devoted it’s time to the sunny side of the Alps.It took us about one hundred and thirty kilometres of asphalt and gravel to get to Munich. This was the hardest part of the ride. The first day seemed easy compared to this. I was driving the van the whole day. I cannot imagine what went through the rest of the team’s minds on the road. They took on the route with two trikes and two fixed gear bikes.

A dream to build — 013

These were the two things that lead us through the infinity of kilometres that were lying ahead at first, and finally behind us the next day. It was celebration time. (This part is going to be really short since I don't want to be an unthankful S.O.A.B) so we spent the night in a humble but cosy corner of the Germanic city of Munich.

Monday evening This was the conclusion of our work in Hallein. Everything was organized by What’s the deal project. We shared our experienced, talked about what we did, who we were and what it was all about with people who showed up. There was a party after our talk, but we were too tired to party and somebody “ruined” the DJ at some point. From there on it was only a matter of pride and returning to our homeland. To the land where our princess lives. Again 5 hours, a lot of singing and then our city. In reverse. So there we were at the point where we started. The same people on the outside but richer for an experience that nobody would ever be able to take away from us. And thankful. To all those that made it possible and were there for us, to our parents, probably even Jesus Christ and Blody Maries. Us. The five donuts plus the princess. The Princess and the five princess’ donuts.On Tuesday we returned to Ljubljana with aching feet, where our families, friends and acquaintances greeted us with open hands. But the journey hadn’t ended yet, at least for Bor and me. The van was too small to fit all our stuff plus the trikes. We took another quick trip from Ljubljana to Munich and back to get the trikes we built. Although it took us all day, we still managed to get a quick glance at Oktoberfest and tasted the amazingness of Italian-German cuisine. So remember, kids... The moral of the story is that each and every one of us, at a certain point in our life, gets a Rog bike to repair.And a dream to build.

— 014

Imprint — 015

Published by:

CUK Kino Siska, Trg prekomorskih brigad 3, 1107 Ljubljana, Slovenia

in collaboration with Muslauf society

www.whatsthedeal.eu

www.facebook.com/wtdproject

Editon editor: Ajda Fortuna

Design: Mina Zabnikar, Ee

Illustrations: Ajda Fortuna

Text: Marko Makuc & Vasily Orlov Wagner

Proof-reader: Alenka Ropret

Published under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 3.0 Unported License

© 2014 by the authors

This project has been funded with support from the European

Commission. This publication solely reflects the views of the

authors, and the Commission cannot be held responsible for any

use which may be made of the information contained therein.

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