The “Bionic Rider” on His Motorcycle Trip to Iceland

Riding Iceland is a study in contrasts: perfect tarmac and sudden gravel, calm light and violent wind, a feeling of being “far away” with rescue never really far. In this interview, the rider who calls himself the “Bionic Rider” shares his Iceland motorcycle trip: why he left, what the country taught him, and how a road bike can still take you deep into the highlands—if you respect the pace. He travelled in late summer, spent 14 full days in Iceland and added 3 days in the Faroe Islands, returning with one conviction: if you only follow the Ring Road, you’re missing the heart of the island.

Interview: The Bionic Rider

Who are you?

I’m a travelling motorcyclist—“bionic”, as I like to say. I ride, I travel, and I’m a hobby photographer when I have time. I got my motorcycle license about two and a half years ago, after more than 70 hours of training. I did it for travel first… and then I learned to enjoy the ride itself.

Why that name, “Bionic Rider”?

Because it’s literal. I lost my hearing progressively from late adolescence and became almost totally deaf. When hearing aids stopped helping, I became eligible for a cochlear implant.

In simple terms: there’s electronics implanted in my skull, and an electrode going into the inner ear that sends electrical signals directly to the auditory nerve—so I can hear again.

If you want to understand the tech, there’s a good starting point here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeg4qTnYOpw

On the bike, though, I’m still completely deaf: I can’t wear the external part of the system under a helmet.

What made you leave?

The need to travel, and to push beyond my comfort zone. Iceland is stunning, and it offers “real adventure” sensations—gravel, rivers, fast-changing weather—without the same level of isolation you’d face in, say, Mongolia or more remote parts of Central Asia.

When did you go?

I left on July 24 and came back on August 21. That includes getting to the ferry port in Denmark and the boat crossings. In total: 14 full days in Iceland, plus 3 days in the Faroe Islands.

How many kilometres did you ride?

Hard to say precisely because I drowned my dashboard during a river crossing a few days before leaving Iceland—overconfident moment. But I’d say around 8,500 km, maybe a bit more, including the approach and ferries.

Why Iceland?

Because it’s wild and beautiful—and I love being in the middle of nowhere, just watching the landscape. The tracks, the rivers, and the weather create a real challenge.

And at the same time, it’s a country that’s organized around those constraints. Even when you feel alone out there, help, towing, mechanics, and repatriation options are never “impossible” to reach. That makes Iceland a strong training ground before bigger, more committing destinations.

What were you riding, and why?

A Kawasaki Versys 650 (2012). Not the prettiest bike, but I love it. When I got my license, I wanted something that could travel, stay fun on the road, remain reliable, and be reasonable to buy and maintain. It made sense.

Was it a good fit for Iceland?

Let’s be clear: it’s a road bike. But it can handle rough gravel as long as you keep the speed down and ride clean. This was my first off-road experience, including sections close to real trail riding, so I naturally adopted a slow, careful rhythm that suited the bike.

I still blew my fork seals along the way—more from suspension setup than anything else.

Your wildest, best moments?

So many. Boarding the ferry with other riders. My first kilometres on dirt. Getting bogged down. River crossings. Places that feel like another planet. Wild camping in absolute emptiness. Wind that physically pushes you toward the opposite lane. Drowning the bike in a big river—and the unlikely repair that followed.

And of course: the landscapes.

The memory you’ll keep forever?

My first river that stopped me. I camped rough, alone, surrounded by unreal scenery under the midnight sun, then crossed the next morning. Then another river. Then another. That sequence changed my definition of motorcycle travel. After that, purely paved trips feel like something is missing.

Your favourite place?

Landmannalaugar, without hesitation: volcanic rock deserts and mountains that look painted in layers.

The hardest moment?

One afternoon with brutal wind. Difficult moments make good stories—except when they’re genuinely dangerous. In Iceland, a northwesterly can be strong enough to knock over campervans and push over parked big adventure bikes. That day, it was pure risk management.

Advice for an Iceland motorcycle trip (what I’d tell a friend)

Don’t limit yourself to the Ring Road. If you go to Iceland, go ride the unpaved tracks—otherwise you’re missing what makes the island unique.

Check road conditions and the weather every morning. In Iceland, that’s not “nice to have”; it decides whether a gravel section stays fun or becomes a trap.

Bring extra camera batteries and memory cards. You’ll shoot more than you planned—because the light and the scale are relentless.

Planet Ride pro tip (pace): on mixed tarmac/gravel days, plan your day around real riding time, not kilometres. Shorter distances can take longer when you add wind, river scouting, and slow surfaces—fatigue arrives earlier than you expect.

Your small travel hacks?

Prep your bike properly, ride with decent protective gear, and don’t overthink it. At some point you have to start.

Any videos to share?

Yes—two quick, rough edits are on YouTube here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8MZdBPEqbldqsSRbLW-GeQ/videos

And this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTAgLfdZzuU

Where are you going next, and when?

I honestly don’t know yet—but I have an idea. Last year, thanks to my blog, I ran crowdfunding and got sponsors (Touratech, L’Equipement.fr, Icasque.com, Steel Bike Concept, among others). It made the trip possible at the time.

For the next one, I’d like to give back—do crowdfunding again, but this time for a charity that matters to me. The destination will depend on that. We’ll see.

À savoir aujourd’hui

This interview reflects a late-summer trip and a rider’s experience at that time. What remains true is Iceland’s fast-changing weather, the importance of gravel/track riding beyond the Ring Road, and the need to manage wind and river crossings with humility. Before leaving, always re-check current road access, track openings, and local rules for camping and off-road travel.