Hey Maxime, such a pleasure to have you here! I’ve been following your journey since around 2019, and honestly, every time I see your photos or watch your videos, I’m mesmerized. You’ve got a unique sensitivity and a photographic eye that I truly admire. And the way you live your adventures… it’s fascinating and deeply inspiring. So I’d love to ask you a few questions and dig a little deeper into your world. So, first things first, who’s Maxime? Where do you live and what do you do when you’re not pedaling around the world?
Hey man! Really appreciate the kind words, thanks a lot. So I’m based in Bordeaux, down in the southwest of France, and I’m a graphic designer at Studio Ouam. Most of my days are spent cooking up visual identities for brands and messing around with design alongside my team. And when I’m not glued to a screen, you’ll probably find me in my garage, trying to keep a few rat bikes alive!



“Every little moment feels supercharged, like regular life turned up to 100. The emotions are raw, real, and totally unfiltered.”
How did this whole bike adventure thing start for you? Was there a specific moment when you realized this was your path?
I’ve always been into bikes as a kid, but when I hit 12, skateboarding totally stole my heart and bikes took a backseat for a while. Fast forward to 2018, I got diagnosed with Crohn’s disease and ended up spending a month and a half in the hospital. Everything turned out fine in the end, but after that I really needed to clear my head and get some fresh air. That’s when the bike made its comeback.
At first I was that fixed gear only kind of guy but it didn’t take long before I got curious about gravel. I wanted to get dirty, explore, go off-road. So I built my gravel bike during the first lockdown, and the day restrictions lifted I went on this massive ride. That was the spark, I fell hard for off-road riding and I knew there was no turning back.
Do you remember your very first trip on a bike? What was it like?
My first solo bikepacking trip was back in 2020. I decided to cross the Ardèche and the Cévennes, two wild and quite hilly regions in France that are about as remote and empty as it gets. It was about two weeks of cycling through rugged terrain but I had to cut the trip short by two days due to a mechanical I couldn’t fix.
As a rookie I learned a lot, especially when it came to route planning. I took on what was basically a mountain bike route with my trusty Surly Cross-Check and 40mm tires… let’s just say, not the best match. That choice cost me a lot of energy and led to some loooong, painful days. But in the end, it was exactly what I was looking for : epic wild camping spots, remote off-road trails, and a rare slice of time completely to myself.



What’s that special feeling or “beauty” that keeps pushing you to explore the world on two wheels?
That’s a tough one… I’ve always loved the outdoors, especially really remote places. I think there are two main things that drive me.
The first is the curiosity and the urge to explore new places, discovering hidden spots, chasing the perfect wild camping site, and just having fun riding the best trails I can find. The second one is even stronger, it’s one of those feelings that’s tough to explain, but if you’ve been there, you know. When you’re out in the middle of nowhere, just you, your bike, and whatever the trails throw at you, something shifts. You’ve got no one to count on but yourself and that kind of self-reliance hits different. It pushes you in a way nothing else really can. Every little moment feels supercharged, like regular life turned up to 100. The emotions are raw, real, and totally unfiltered. Honestly, I crave that feeling. I need it in my life at least once or twice a year.
Out of all the places you’ve been, is there one trip that really stuck with you? Why that one?
Every trip I’ve done holds a special place in my memory, but one that really left a mark was the one I did with my best friend Bibo in Scotland. It was our first time bikepacking in a foreign country, and it turned out to be one epic odyssey.
We drove all the way up to Stirling, which was already an adventure in itself. We left from Paris and it took us two full days to get there, crossing the Channel by ferry, switching to left-hand driving and covering hundreds of kilometers through the UK. By the time we reached Stirling we already felt like we were deep into the trip, and the real adventure hadn’t even started yet. From there, we spent nearly two weeks riding through the wild, rugged beauty of the Cairngorms mountains. We didn’t have a set route for this one, just a rough track built on Komoot by mixing in some well-known routes with a bunch of improvised segments. That combo led us into some seriously wild and unpredictable terrain.
We found ourselves hours into bog crossings (those sneaky swampy patches where your feet plunge straight through the grass into freezing water) not knowing if there even was a way out. We hiked our bikes up mountains where the trail straight-up vanished. At times it felt more like a survival mission than a bike ride.
But wow, the payoff. We hit some of the most unreal wild camping spots and bombed down dream-worthy descents. It was the kind of trip that had everything: brutal climbs, big laughs, a few swear words, moments of doubt, and that unbeatable feeling of freedom when you just surrender to the unknown. You go to sleep wondering if the next day’s plan is even possible, and honestly, that’s the magic of it. It teaches you to let go and roll with whatever is coming your way.
It wasn’t the smoothest or easiest trip we’ve done, but hands down it was one of the most unforgettable. Intense, wild, beautiful, and one hell of a memory with one of my closest friends. That kind of adventure is absolutely priceless.


“You go to sleep wondering if the next day’s plan is even possible – and honestly, that’s the magic of it.”

What are the few things that you never leave behind when you pack your bags for a bike trip?
Besides the obvious essentials that everyone needs for any outdoor trip, there are a few things I just can’t go without. I’m a coffee lover, so I never leave for a bike trip without a good bag of ground beans and my beloved AeroPress. There’s nothing like a proper cup of coffee when you wake up on top of a mountain. Then there’s the flask of whisky. It’s not just for the vibes, it’s for morale. After a cold, muddy, type-2-fun kind of day, a little sip by the tent hits just right. And last but not least : a lighter wrapped in duct tape. It’s my secret weapon, fire and repairs in one pocket-sized package. I’m constantly amazed by how many situations duct tape can save you from.



By the way, your photos are insane, so good. What kind of camera gear do you usually travel with?
Thanks man! I’m a big fan of film photography. I usually bring with me my old Ricoh FF-1 or my Canon Mju II, along with a bunch of rolls. One of my favorites has always been the iconic Ektar 100, it’s amazing for outdoor shots. Recently I came across an old bag tucked away in a corner of a storage room at my parent’s place. It was full of expired film rolls, so I’ve been using those for a while now. I really enjoy shooting film when I’m traveling, it makes you slow down and really think about each shot, trying to capture only the best moments. That mindset fits perfectly with the slow travel vibe when I’m out riding my bike in nature.
That said, it can also be frustrating at times. Both of my cameras are point-and-shoots so it’s not always easy to fully capture the feeling I’m going for. On top of that the price of film has gone through the roof since Covid. Because of all that I’m seriously considering switching to digital. I’d also love to start filming more when bikepacking. I think video is a great way to hold on to those memories, not just for myself but also to share a bit of the adventure with friends and family. It’s also a way to give a little something back to the outdoor community which inspires me so much when I’m off the bike.



For someone who dreams of doing what you do but doesn’t know where to start… what’s the best advice you’d give?
It might sound a bit cliché but sometimes the only advice you really need is: « just go for it, it’ll be fun! » Sure, it’s not exactly advice… but you get the idea! Grab your bike and head out for a simple overnighter close to home. You’ll quickly figure out whether it’s your thing or not. If it is something you’re genuinely excited about, chances are the only thing holding you back is… you. No need to go for anything extreme or risky right away, skip the hardcore trails and expert-level stuff. Start with something easy and manageable. From there you’ll naturally figure out what works for you and what doesn’t.
I know bikepacking can seem pretty expensive. Between the bikes and bags, the fancy lightweight gear and all the new gadgets that come out every year, it’s easy to feel like you need the latest stuff. But the truth is, the best bike for bikepacking is the one you already have. And if you don’t have one just grab a 90s mtb off Craigslist for a few bucks, take it to your local bike shop for a quick tune-up and you’re good to go. Those old bikes are awesome: cheap, strong, good looking, fun to ride, easy to fix or upgrade and super versatile. There’s loads of inspiration online, bikepacking.com’s budget build-off is a great place to start but there are tons of videos and threads out there about low-cost setups.
If there’s one solid piece of advice I can give though: don’t skimp on snacks. Even if it adds a bit of weight, you’ll never regret having too many snacks!





I saw your videos from Iceland, seriously, it looked like you were riding on Mars! What’s the most unforgettable thing you remember from that trip?
Oh man, what a ride it’s been. It’s hard to pick just one highlight from this trip, the whole experience was so full of unexpected moments and wild beauty. But if there’s one thing that stuck with me by the end, it’s how unbelievably lucky I was over those nine days. Things just kept falling into place.
I went at the very end of the season, knowing full well I was taking a risk: snow was possible and the central route through the highlands could easily be closed. Two weeks before my departure, heavy snow hit the area, and that one critical road I needed was completely shut down. Still, I decided to go and see what was possible. I had ten days of food, solid gear, and a healthy respect for the weather so I figured I’d stay flexible and safe.
Then luck came through. Just a few days before I set off, the snow melted and a good weather window opened up. Those first three days were nothing short of surreal. Riding through the northern highlands felt like stepping onto another planet : vast, untouched, and completely mesmerizing.
But then came day three. A windstorm rolled in, pinning me inside an emergency hut for 36 straight hours. I only had a liter of water, and there was nowhere to refill. I thought I might be in real trouble. But again, lucky me, the hut’s water tank was full thanks to the rangers who had refilled it days earlier.
By day five, the winds had calmed a little, so I pushed on. That afternoon, I hit a river crossing with fast current, icy water, easily 2 or 3°C. I stood there, genuinely stuck, debating if I could even attempt it. And then, like something out of a movie, a 4×4 pulled up. Two volcanologists on a field mission. I’d only seen two other groups in the past four days and they just happened to show up right when I needed them. We put the bike in the trunk and crossed safely this massive river.
Little moments like that kept happening. One night, I randomly took a detour just for the hell of it, and stumbled across an unlocked hut in the middle of nowhere, not on any map, totally off my route. I was planning to sleep in my tent that night, but with the wind picking up again, I honestly don’t know if it would’ve held. That hut was a lifesaver.
Looking back, I just feel so grateful. This was a route I’d dreamed about for years and I actually got to live it. Against the odds, with a little stubbornness and a whole lot of luck, it came true.

And last one: any new projects, big dreams, or upcoming rides we should keep an eye on?
I always have a few ideas simmering in the back of my mind. Not sure if they’ll all come to life but I’m definitely someone who loves drawing lines on maps and dreaming about far-off places. What I’d really love is to take on something longer than usual, maybe a three-month journey or more.
A few regions keep calling to me. South America, especially the Andes, has a strong pull. There’s something about those massive landscapes that really speaks to me. There’s also central Asia and countries like Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan… the idea of riding through high-altitude terrain fascinates me.
To prepare for something that big I might try an intermediate trip next summer, closer to home. I’m thinking of crossing the Pyrenees from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic via the high passes, aiming to do it in about 30 days. It would be the perfect way to sharpen my hike-a-bike skills and test myself on tough terrain. We’ll see what life has in stock for me!
Thanks so much, Maxime. Keep doing what you do, it’s meaningful, it’s real, and it speaks to the soul. I can’t wait to see where your next ride takes you… and hopefully, one day, our paths will cross on the road.
