A raindrop falls, landing on a mountain pass. By chance, it lands exactly at the summit. The ensuing splash sees part of it drain down one side of the pass, and the rest down the opposite. At the exact same time a cyclist rides through the light shower, passing from Southern Europe to Northern Europe, crossing the alps for the second time that day, oblivious that these droplets of rain landing as he passes are being split, one part now draining to the North Sea, the other to the Adriatic. But that is the thing about riding in the mountains: if you don’t take the time to look around, and gain an in-depth knowledge of the giants that you’re riding through, you miss the majority of the story.

And that story is one that lies at the heart of this fixed gear track bike rider from Bern, Patrick Seabase. A story of the mountains and how they are central to what he does. But at the same time a story linked to the history of these high rocky outcrops, because they are equally as oblivious to the drops of water as they are the passing of man.

3am, Innertkirchen Dorf, Canton Bern. Silently, Patrick readies himself for the ride ahead. He checks the chain tension of his fixed gear track bike, turns on his lights, and heads onto Grimselstrasse. His support car pulls out seconds later. The town watches these moments unfold with a silent passive dominance. The slumber of its residence bears down on those present.

There is tension within the group, surely due to what lies ahead rather than the unseen sleeping spectators. 333km with close to 8500 metres of climbing, on a route that crosses the Alps twice, jumping between North and South Europe, passing through cultures, languages and climate zones. Patrick, as always, would be doing all of this on two wheels, with one gear, no brakes, and no freewheel.

When you think of Switzerland, one of the first images that will come to mind are mountains. This small country sits not only at the centre of Europe, but also at the heart of the Alps. With a spine of rocky monoliths running through it, there is no wonder that its history is so steeped in these high peaks. From local farmers to energy companies, military strategists to athletes, mountains are the unnoticed dominant force here.

Mountains are also something that are central to Patrick, an ex-pro skater who is known for his escapades in them on his fixed gear track bike. Don’t let the thought of a fixie turn you off, leading you to conclude that he is a hipster-esque character, or, even worse, an Instagramer. That would be to sell this polymath far too short.

When you think of Switzerland, one of the first images that will come to mind are mountains. This small country sits not only at the centre of Europe, but also at the heart of the Alps. With a spine of rocky monoliths running through it, there is no wonder that its history is so steeped in these high peaks. From local farmers to energy companies, military strategists to athletes, mountains are the unnoticed dominant force here.

Mountains are also something that are central to Patrick, an ex-pro skater who is known for his escapades in them on his fixed gear track bike. Don’t let the thought of a fixie turn you off, leading you to conclude that he is a hipster-esque character, or, even worse, an Instagramer. That would be to sell this polymath far too short.

Grimsel Pass: Moving through the darkness of the early morning, the climb seemingly passes in a moment, almost as though the energy of the night had dragged Patrick to the summit. The lower, wilder and humid sections gave way to the man-made structures, so common a sight on this ascent. Tunnels gave off their tungsten glow, almost chasing away the chill of the night dropping down from the mountains that surround this pass.

When you talk about this iconic climb you can’t miss one thing: energy. Though used as far back as the Roman times, today this areas water drainage is the reason why the Kraftwerke Oberhasli is so linked to this location. Dams, reservoirs and a massive network of underground tunnels make the road what it is today. Why? Because the summit marks the convergence of two drainage basins, the Northern slope run down to the Rhine and via the source of the Aare river, whilst the South side drains to the Rhone. It is this movement of water that generates the hydroelectric energy created by KWO.

Something potentially overlooked by those who climb the pass, this drainage has shaped the road as we know it today. The enduring image of Patrick’s single light trail passing below the main dam, lit like a James Bond villain’s hideout as the 24-hour shift kept working testament to this. The lone rider once again passes through the landscape, skirting past the deep black pools of water, unseen, unnoticed, because life continues in the mountains. The rich hues of browns, greys and burnt greens at the summit are unseen in the darkness, the Alpenflage of this pass affected by the extreme climates it faces year-round. All these elements were unseen, but their ambience was felt through the night.

Simplon Pass: As a road this location holds a long history with Patrick. Second up on his ride, it was climbed after dawn had broken. With the sunlight streaming into the valley below, the lower steep sections were soon ticked off, leaving us to look down on the city of Brig below. As ever the high peaks surrounding this road towered over us with a dominant force, and, as ever, once through the first set of tunnels the real mood of this road was felt.

The Simplon Pass is of huge economic importance to the region, because it links Southern Switzerland with Northern Italy, so the road is large and normally full of traffic. From an aesthetic standpoint, the Simplon Pass sits at the junction of imposing nature and massive engineering. High, twisted outcrops of rock, blend into the more organic curves of the pastures closer to the road. These forms are interspersed with the hard lines of human engineering. From the Ganter Bridge to the numerous tunnels, the road’s trajectory is set in such a way as to maximise the chance that humans might have at defeating winter’s cold grip, as this road needs to stay open year-round. The line of tarmac taking such a direction as to almost complement the formations of rock that surround it.

Patrick’s passage was occasionally an inconvenience to the traffic, but at most it was a small dot in the history of this region. He was yet another person darting through the jagged gorges on the Italian side of the pass, that could be classed as the definition of a natural border.

Gotthard Pass: After a short journey in Italy, passing Centovalli and the long drag through almost the entire length of Switzerland’s Italian-speaking canton, Ticino, the real crux of Patrick’s route was now on the horizon. Three massive passes starting with the fortress of a mountain that sits below the Gotthard Pass. Having past bastions of religion and mass transit en-route, huge road bridges and even bigger tunnel entrances, the Gotthard Pass, via the Tremola, takes you back into nature. It is only the garrison seen upon exiting Airolo that hints to the bunker hidden within this mountain. Touted as one of the most strategic places in Switzerland, there are very few signs that this was once part of the WWII Redut for this country’s military.

The cobbled Tremola snakes its way up to the pass, where thanks to the conditions of the day we are reminded once again that we are crossing between two climates, as an icy northerly wind cuts down from high. Statues at the summit remember a time that once was; monuments to an epoch when the mountains were feared, the hostilities and risks of life up high reserved for hardy shepherds, mule train drivers looking to make their fortunes, and evil spirits.

For the first time during Patrick’s ride we get a hint of traditional mountain life. Where those living in these high pastures adhered to rules that are generations old. Wood stacked as it has been for centuries, the elements as unpredictable as ever. The only change being the ease with which these areas can be reached. But as the day started to close out and the sun sank low in the sky, we were left here with little company other than the mountains looking down on us, as they had done all day and through all the ages.

Furka Pass: Arguably the most remote and least adapted road on the route. Following the valley that heads West from Andermatt this feels like a location for locals only. Narrow and without a guard rail it teases you with its first few hairpins, before dragging on for what seems a lifetime, slowly taking you to its pass, after traversing some very rural villages.

This road harks back to a different time, when alpinism and the natural world were not what they are today. Closed hotels by the roadside monuments to travel via buses, where the rich would come to see the mountains from these extreme roads. Today, thanks to climate change, the most spectacular sight of this road – the Gletsch Glacier – has retreated. But we were not here for tourist shots. As night arrived and the mist fell, Patrick was focused on closing out his loop.

Oberaaresee 10.20pm: It was only fitting that Patrick’s route would finish at the source of the Aare river. For this Bern native, the Aare cutting its deep blue loop around the Swiss Capital is hard to miss. Now enveloped in black, the narrow road to the Oberaarsee meandered along the side of the crest, heading to the basin where the highest dam of the KWO system is found.

Patrick lit, by his support car, continued pedalling, in such darkness, the aesthetic was now gone; it was just the ambient and athletic side of his endeavour to feed us. Normally surrounded by the same Alpenflage colourway found at the close by Grimsel pass, we could see nothing, but our senses were attuned to the presence of the mountains around us.

Rolling through the mist, the endeavour of Patrick the athlete came to an end. The numbers collated and the goal achieved. But for something like this, as with any ride by Patrick, it’s not just about the sporting aspect, because like a big wave surfer without waves, this fixed gear cyclist’s feats are integrally linked to the locations where they are done. It is that collision of environment, aesthetics, ambient and athletics that make Patrick Seabase a true individual in the world of two wheeled sporting endeavours.

Not all sports for disabled people become part of the Paralympic program, including Torball, the most popular sport for the blind in Italy. The game involves two teams, each consisting of 3 players. The teams face each other on a playing field 16 meters long and 7 meters wide, divided by three stretched cords equipped with bells at a height of 40cm from the ground.

The Torball involves the use of a spherical ball of 500 grams. Inside this ball there are metal hemispheres: the sound and the trajectory of the ball are perceived and intuited by the players. The players (who are totally blind or visually impaired) are equipped with an eye patch that completely obscures the view and as a reference point they have a mat.

The object of the game is to throw the ball with your hands towards the opponent’s goal to score. If the ball touches the cords a foul is committed. The player who committed the foul is forced out momentarily and the opposing team has a free kick. Three fouls result in a penalty.

The match lasts 10 minutes and is divided into two halves. The team that scores the most goals is obviously the winner. Although the cousin Goalball is a Paralympic sport, Torball is much more widespread in Italy. There are 3 leagues: Serie A, Serie B and Serie C.

This is mainly due to the fact that Goalball requires large infrastructures to set up the pitch, while Torball is usually played in Italian school gyms and does not require large economic investments.

The sports club of the ITALIAN UNION BLIND of Turin has been trying to win the Scudetto for years. A goal that this sports club came particularly close to in 2015, when the team finished the season in second place. While all other sports have been adapted to people with disabilities and always require the assistance of a guide or assistant (running, cycling, football, etc …), Torball is the only sport created specifically for blind people and allows them complete autonomy. This factor, in addition to the spectacular nature of the game itself, makes the practice of Torball interesting and stimulating.

Not even to say the sport for many disabled children turns out to be a salvation, a second life capable of creating strong emotions, adrenaline and human bonds. Fortunately, thanks to the progress of medicine, there are fewer and fewer blind people in Italy. For this reason, Torball is a sport that is gradually becoming less and less played and perhaps destined to disappear.

Il Taekwondo è un affare di famiglia per i Pachansky. L’arte marziale coreana ha permesso a questi giovani fratelli di superare differenze di genere, di unirsi in un’unica, totalizzante, passione. Una passione ritratta dall’attenta macchina fotografica di Joe Hart.

Abbiamo parlato con Mia, il lato femminile di questo nucleo familiare dedito all’arte dei calci e dei pugni. Mia, recentemente entrata nel programma federale britannico, oltre a lambire con l’immaginazione il personale sogno olimpico, ci ha svelato il significato che uno sport di questo tipo può assumere nella quotidianità e nella personalità di una giovane ragazza. Buona visione.

Da quanto tempo il Taekwondo fa parte della vostra famiglia?

Io e i miei fratelli ci siamo imbattuti per caso nel Taekwondo circa sei anni fa. All’epoca ero una ragazzina poco sportiva, che non avrebbe mai immaginato di combattere contro qualcuno, figuriamoci di gareggiare su larga scala. Siamo stati fortunati: ci siamo trovati nel posto giusto al momento giusto, imbattendoci in un volantino del club locale sulla strada per scuola. La mia famiglia in origine ha iniziato a frequentare il club solo per stare in salute e migliorare la forma fisica.

Ciò che mi ha fatto iniziare a prendere sul serio il Taekwondo è stato guardare mio fratello alla sua prima competizione. Sperimentare l’atmosfera elettrica della gara e, soprattutto, vedere quanto fosse emozionante gareggiare per mio fratello minore, mi ha ispirato a voler iniziare ad allenarmi più seriamente e a fare lo stesso.

Quali sono le sensazioni e le emozioni che provi durante gli allenamenti e le gare?

Il brivido che si prova salendo sul tatami durante una competizione è molto potente. Sentire i tuoi compagni di squadra che ti applaudono in sottofondo mentre cammini, l’eccitazione che aumenta mentre il tuo avversario si avvicina, vedere il tuo nome sullo schermo… Questi sono tutti motivi che fanno crescere l’adrenalina prima di un combattimento. Sono molto grata a questa disciplina perché mi regala vere opportunità di viaggiare all’estero, in molti Paesi che non avrei mai avuto la possibilità di vedere. Mi sento anche molto fortunata ad aver incontrato nuovi amici provenienti da diverse parti del Paese in questo periodo di formazione con il team britannico.

L’allenamento quotidiano, va detto, non è sempre così affascinante. Allenarsi ogni giorno mentre, contemporaneamente, si affronta la scuola a tempo pieno, può diventare molto stressante. Può diventare molto difficile trovare le motivazioni. Iniziare è sempre la parte più difficile: una volta che mi sono riscaldata mi sento focalizzata sul fare una buona sessione e non c’è niente di più soddisfacente della sensazione di stanchezza a fine allenamento.

Cosa ti fa provare l’essere una giovane ragazza coinvolta in un’arte marziale?

Praticare Taekwondo ha aumentato incommensurabilmente la fiducia in me stessa. Sebbene le arti marziali non siano una panacea per risolvere tutti i problemi che una ragazza può affrontare, credo fermamente che le ragazze possano trarre beneficio dalle varie abilità sviluppate grazie ad esse: dall’apprendimento dell’autodifesa, alla costruzione del senso di autostima. La Gran Bretagna ha squadre di Taekwondo senior e junior femminili molto forti e ha un ampio pool di selezione, quindi, nonostante sia una ragazza occupata in uno sport così particolare, non mi sono mai mancate compagne di sparring.

Il rapporto tra te e i tuoi fratelli cambia sul tatami? E la tua personalità è cambiata/migliorata dopo l’incontro con il Taekwondo?

Ad essere onesti io e i miei fratelli litighiamo sempre, ma durante l’allenamento andiamo d’accordo e ci motiviamo a vicenda. Sono grata di avere i miei fratelli come compagni d’allenamento: cosa che è tornata utile soprattutto durante la pandemia, quando tutti gli altri sono stati costretti ad uno stop forzato. Fare Taekwondo sicuramente modella la tua personalità: impari a fronteggiare situazioni stressanti e ti insegna che uscire dalla tua zona di comfort porta sempre a una ricompensa. Penso che molte delle abilità che ho acquisito grazie a questo sport, come la gestione del tempo, la perseveranza e la volontà di provare cose nuove, si siano trasferite anche in altre parti della mia vita.

Come vedi questo sport nel tuo futuro e quali sono i tuoi obiettivi?

Il mio obiettivo finale è vincere una medaglia d’oro alle Olimpiadi. I miei sforzi sono fissati su Parigi 2024 e Los Anegeles 2028. Questi sono obiettivi a lungo termine, un mio obiettivo a breve termine è essere selezionata per i Campionati Europei Junior 2021. Di recente sono stata convocata nel programma a tempo pieno di GB Taekwondo e non vedo l’ora d’iniziare a luglio. Essere in grado di fare ciò che amo a tempo pieno è qualcosa a cui aspiravo da molto tempo. Mi piacerebbe poter illuminare positivamente questo sport e vorrei essere in grado di ispirare una generazione più giovane di atleti di Taekwondo, proprio come stanno facendo gli attuali atleti britannici con me.

Immaginate gli strascichi dei ribelli anni ’70, immaginate un’accogliente ombra che si allunga, ora dopo ora, ai piedi del superbo Half Dome, sperone granitico incastonato nel cuore dello Yosemite Park.

Immaginate la California psichedelica, vissuta sulle note di Jimi Hendrix, popolata da giovanissimi dalle barbe incolte, da corpi che s’immolano su pareti verticali alla ricerca della libertà sensoriale, alla ricerca di obiettivi da conquistare mano dopo mano, appiglio dopo appiglio.

Immaginate, semplicemente, una Woodtsock dell’arrampicata, una comune dell’ascensione, dove l’eccesso dello sforzo fisico si alterna all’incantato vociare faunistico della Sierra Nevada.

Ora immaginate che quell’enclave umana, abbandonata a picchi adrenalinici ed estasi interiori, abbia dato i natali ad uno dei brand più iconici dell’universo outdoor. Ecco, state immaginando Gramicci.