<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title><![CDATA[Galeforce Kayaks]]></title><description><![CDATA[Galeforce Kayaks]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/blog</link><generator>RSS for Node</generator><lastBuildDate>Mon, 19 Oct 2026 23:34:52 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/blog-feed.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title><![CDATA[180 DAY TRIPS — INTRO]]></title><description><![CDATA[In 2013 I circumnavigated Scandinavia by sea kayak in a boat I designed and built myself. I documented the whole journey in a blog called 180 Day Trips. It was written in Czech and sat untouched for ten years — until now I've translated it into English so paddlers and adventurers from around the world can follow the journey. Prague. Autumn 2012. The sun is barely up and the city is already doing its thing. Golden light sitting low on the old stone buildings. Cold air, clean and sharp....]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/180-day-trips-intro</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf0a56919291f58c605831</guid><pubDate>Fri, 18 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 1 — Sweet Sleep]]></title><description><![CDATA[April 7, 2013 I'm hunched in my tent, wrestling with my back, which feels like it's locked in a permanent cramp. Can't find a single position that doesn't hurt. But hey — I knew what I was signing up for. The first two weeks were never going to be a picnic. If anything, this trip's shaping up to be a beautiful kind of hell. A long, grinding holiday through fire. But let's rewind to the beginning. When I decided to set out on this journey and document it, I made myself a promise: to write...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-1-sweet-sleep</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf0d43cbe15ce02c2313eb</guid><pubDate>Thu, 17 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 2 — Onto the Elbe]]></title><description><![CDATA[April 8–19, 2013 Three hours. That's how long I waited at the next lock after Klecany. When they finally let me through, I paddled as far as Mělník — just fifteen minutes past closing time at the lock. Naturally. But to be honest, even that short distance wiped me out. I threw up the tarp and crashed next to the kayak like a passed-out hiker at a music festival. The next morning, I got lucky. I was let through the lock at 1 p.m., and bam — I was on the Elbe. Finally. Real current, real flow....]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-2-onto-the-elbe</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf0f7e12f0baf721f3f5c3</guid><pubDate>Wed, 16 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 3 — The Canal That Broke Me]]></title><description><![CDATA[April 24–30, 2013 After days of fast water and momentum on the Elbe, I drifted beneath something that didn't seem like it should exist: the Havel Canal bridge. A floating river in the sky, built to carry cargo ships over the valley — and over me. I didn't paddle the canal itself, just passed under it. But even from below, it hit me hard. I'm not usually one for marvelling at infrastructure, but this thing was different. It felt like someone took the ocean, bent it into a pipe, and strung it...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-3-the-canal-that-broke-me</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf133afbd0b41196c6fcc0</guid><pubDate>Tue, 15 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 4 — Salt on My Lips]]></title><description><![CDATA[May 1, 2013 Stove's dead. Again. It's been messing with me since day one, but this morning it fully gave up. No flame, no heat, no coffee. I tore it apart for nearly an hour, blowing into pipes like a lunatic, covered in soot, muttering every curse I know. Finally got it working. Coffee never tasted so good. While I was fixing it, a guy wandered over — building a Greenland-style kayak. We chatted. Nice guy. Always good to meet someone who speaks the same boat-language. Around noon, I finally...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-4-salt-on-my-lips</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf1473fbd0b41196c6feda</guid><pubDate>Mon, 14 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 5 — The First Low]]></title><description><![CDATA[May 3–4, 2013 May 3 — Day Off Woke up after ten hours of sleep and still felt wrecked. I sat with it for a bit, then made the call: taking a day off. No drama. Just me, the Kindle, and Sinuhe the Egyptian. A little food run, something to drink. That was the day. Then the mood dropped. Hard. First proper Low of the Trip. Didn't want to paddle. Didn't want to think. Everything felt heavy, useless. So I opened that bottle of wine I'd just bought, gave it a good talking-to, and went back to bed....]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-5-the-first-low</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf1af2fc1b448c3a7b869c</guid><pubDate>Sun, 13 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 6 — Denmark UÁÁÁÁÁ!!!]]></title><description><![CDATA[May 5, 2013 I was up early, packed by 8:00, and started walking to the port. Thought it would be a quick stretch. Turned out it was five full kilometres. And the shortcut? Ended in barbed wire. Two and a half hours later, I finally limped into the harbour. The idea was simple: check the weather, maybe talk to the harbour master, let someone know I'd be paddling 20 kilometres across open sea to Denmark in a long orange rocket. But the whole port was automated. Just machines. No people. No...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-6-denmark-u%C3%A1%C3%A1%C3%A1%C3%A1%C3%A1</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf1c04fbd0b41196c70970</guid><pubDate>Sat, 12 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 7 — Coffee Fire]]></title><description><![CDATA[May 6, 2013 Started the day slow, just the way I like it. I'm crouched by a small campfire with a tin cup of coffee, writing out yesterday's crossing. The air is still. The sun's out. Smoke curling just right. It's quiet enough to hear my own thoughts for once. Yesterday I paddled across Rødsand Bay, and I swear the water was only swan-neck deep. Literally. There must've been a thousand of them out there — heads buried, grazing like cows underwater. It was peaceful, strange, a little eerie....]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-7-coffee-fire</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf1e5efbd0b41196c70d15</guid><pubDate>Fri, 11 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 8 — Northbound Drift]]></title><description><![CDATA[May 17–21, 2013 May 17 — New Rudder, New Rhythm Back on the move. I made it to Helsingør, and if I'm right, today's the day I'll cross into Sweden — and maybe even dip into the North Sea. Thanks to the guys at Kajakhotellet, I've got a brand-new rudder. The boat finally steers like it's supposed to. No more wrestling with it. One of their local paddlers climbed into my kayak and started performing traditional Greenland-style rolls — smooth, calm, and clean. Watching him roll a modern fast...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-8-northbound-drift</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf1f5f12f0baf721f40d90</guid><pubDate>Thu, 10 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 9 — Open Crossings]]></title><description><![CDATA[May 23, 2013 I call them "open crossings" — long exposed stretches between landmasses. And in my opinion, they're the hardest thing you can do in a sea kayak. I don't like them. They're dangerous. Too many unknowns. A dozen ways things can go sideways. And even if everything goes exactly right, it's just one long, floating stretch of pure boredom. The first big crossing I made a few days ago was 20 km. Conditions were fine. By the halfway point, the sea was almost flat. If it stayed like...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-9-open-crossings</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf2061fbd0b41196c7103b</guid><pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 10 — Wind, Steak, and Rudder-Chewing Cows]]></title><description><![CDATA[May 24 – June 1, 2013 The wind in Bua had a sense of timing. By ten in the morning, just as I was starting to pack up, it kicked in sharp and loud — a full 10 metres per second, straight from the direction I needed to go. I'd seen it enough times now to know the pattern: every day, around noon, the wind woke up and started pushing. Same direction. Same strength. Like clockwork. So I made a new plan — go to sleep early, wake with the sun, beat the wind. It worked. I was up at 04:17, on the...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-10-wind-steak-and-rudder-chewing-cows</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf25740e9264925e336f66</guid><pubDate>Tue, 08 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 11 — Into Norway: Cake, Salt, and Fjord Fights]]></title><description><![CDATA[June 2 – June 8, 2013 Another perfect day on the water. I spent four and a half hours weaving between islets, slowly approaching the edge of Sweden. When I landed in Strömstad, it felt like I'd walked into fast-forward — cars zipping past, people everywhere, motorboats cutting in every direction. After days of paddling, my pace felt glacial. I grabbed a coffee — terrible stuff, served by a stunning waitress — and shoved off again. By evening, I crossed into Norway. That word deserves its own...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-11-into-norway-cake-salt-and-fjord-fights</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf26c9f94f6c79b556104a</guid><pubDate>Mon, 07 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 12 — Chaos, Cod, and the Wind Tunnel]]></title><description><![CDATA[June 9–11, 2013 The day started the way every paddler loves: sleep-deprived, slightly trespassing, and surrounded by luxury homes. First, I was woken by the thundering engines of mega motorboats ripping through the morning. Then came the homeowner — not exactly thrilled that I'd camped on his lawn. Not that I had much choice. This whole coast looks like Orlík on steroids. House after house, crammed into every flat surface. If there's a patch of rock that isn't vertical, someone's poured...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-12-chaos-cod-and-the-wind-tunnel</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf280cfbd0b41196c71b63</guid><pubDate>Sun, 06 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 13 — Sharp Words About Blunt Bows]]></title><description><![CDATA[Or: How to paddle far, argue loud, and write a blog without being a writer This blog exists thanks to a boat, a friend, and a lot of arguments about pointy things. I may be the guy in the kayak, but the words you're reading? They've been touched — often sharpened — by Vítek: paddler, businessman, family man, and part-time editor, weatherman, and crisis hotline. While I was somewhere offshore scribbling notes with frozen fingers, Vítek was back on land turning my rough paper scrawls into...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-13-sharp-words-about-blunt-bows</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf2970fc1b448c3a7b9c9c</guid><pubDate>Sat, 05 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 14 — How to Get a Flat Stomach in 3 Months]]></title><description><![CDATA[Without the gym, the supplements, or giving a damn June 2013 Let me save you a lot of money and misery: forget the six-pack apps, powdered shakes, and shirtless influencers. The secret to a flat stomach is simple: Paddle. Hard. Often. In a boat that's way too full, way too orange, and pointed at a ridiculously distant cape. Confessions from the Kayak For years, I carried a few extra kilos. Like a lot of people, I'd thought about getting fitter — I just never found the thing that stuck. Then I...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-14-how-to-get-a-flat-stomach-in-3-months</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf2b78fbd0b41196c7226b</guid><pubDate>Fri, 04 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 15 — Lindesnes]]></title><description><![CDATA[June 13–14, 2013 After weeks of grinding down the coast, I reached Lindesnes — the southern tip of Norway. Visibility was down to a kilometre. The wind was behind me, the rain was coming down, and for a while, tucked into the cockpit in my warm, dry gear from Hiko, I felt completely at peace. From camp, I aimed west and slightly north, trying to hug the coastline instead of hopping between islands. But with the visibility dropping fast and the cloud ceiling falling even faster, I was paddling...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-15-lindesnes</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf2c5e12f0baf721f422b1</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 16 — Weather, Wind, and the Fish Whisperer]]></title><description><![CDATA[June 15–25, 2013 After Lindesnes, everything turned into one long wet blur. I wasn't writing much — not because there wasn't anything to say, but because there wasn't anything new. Wake up sore. Pack the tent wet. Paddle into wind. Repeat. Fog, grey skies, wet gear. You stop noticing after a while. I just kept digging — clawing back kilometres from the slow days. On the 19th, I passed the 2,000 km mark. Two months and five days on the water. It was raining. Visibility maybe 100 metres....]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-16-weather-wind-and-the-fish-whisperer</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf2d6d4bf77120a3fa2a85</guid><pubDate>Wed, 02 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 17 — Where the Vikings Dragged Boats]]></title><description><![CDATA[July 5, 2013 Today didn't feel much different from yesterday — at least not weather-wise. Maybe a little less wind overall, but the gusts were brutal. Hard to judge wind strength with it at your back, but I'd guess a steady 15 m/s, with bursts I won't even bother trying to describe. Let's just say I covered 11 kilometres in an hour and ten minutes. That says enough. The big difference? Today I was ready for it. Still a bit twitchy at the start — legs shaking, adrenaline humming — but I knew...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-17-where-the-vikings-dragged-boats</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf2e45fc1b448c3a7ba612</guid><pubDate>Tue, 01 Sep 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 18 — The Overland Paddle]]></title><description><![CDATA[July 8, 2013 At 08:00 sharp, the local guy showed up — smiling, like he was dropping off a pizza — and handed me the cart. Not just any cart either. A proper hauler. Big tyres. Rated for 150 kilos. And better still, he said I could leave it on the other side — he'd pick it up later. One trip. No hauling back and forth. Norwegians, man. Absolute legends. The trail started out smooth. Steep, sure — but manageable. After an hour and a half, I was up at the pass. I hadn't walked more than a...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-18-the-overland-paddle</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf2f704bf77120a3fa2e5a</guid><pubDate>Mon, 31 Aug 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[POST 19 — The Wall of the West]]></title><description><![CDATA[July 16, 2013 — The Southwest Coast I've been quiet lately. Not much to report — unless you want to hear me whining about only managing 5 kilometres a day. So what happened? Let's back up. The southwest coast of Norway is nothing like the rest. There are almost no islands here. Now, for a sea kayaker, that's a problem — because islands mean shelter. Without them, you're exposed. Fully. So when a storm brews out in the Atlantic, the swell funnels straight through the Channel, wraps around the...]]></description><link>https://www.galeforcekayaks.com/post/post-19-the-wall-of-the-west</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6aaf30b1fbd0b41196c72add</guid><pubDate>Sun, 30 Aug 2026 23:00:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>petr major</dc:creator></item></channel></rss>