{"id":15191,"date":"2026-05-05T13:05:04","date_gmt":"2026-05-05T11:05:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/xentis.com\/where-the-road-begins-the-child-returns\/"},"modified":"2026-05-05T13:05:04","modified_gmt":"2026-05-05T11:05:04","slug":"where-the-road-begins-the-child-returns","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/xentis.com\/en\/where-the-road-begins-the-child-returns\/","title":{"rendered":"Where the road begins, the child returns"},"content":{"rendered":"

“There is something about the bicycle that time has never managed to wear down. No matter how many years pass, how many kilometers I accumulate, or how many routes I draw on the map: every time I get on it, something inside me returns to the starting point.”
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

There is something about the bicycle that time has never managed to wear down. No matter how many years pass, how many kilometers I accumulate, or how many routes I draw on the map: every time I get on it, something inside me returns to the starting point. To that exact moment when everything was new, when there were no limits, and when emotion needed no explanation. For me, the bicycle is still that: a time machine that brings me back to the essence, to the child who discovered the world one pedal stroke at a time.
\nBecause there are many ways to understand the bicycle. Some measure it in watts, in times, or in results. Others experience it as an escape, as therapy, as routine. And then there are those of us who see it as a door. A door to the unknown, to places that don’t always appear on maps, to stories that have not yet been told. I love all its forms, every discipline, every way of living it… but what truly captivates me is the constant search for special places, for scenes that feel as if they were waiting for someone willing enough to reach them.
\nIt all begins long before the ride. It starts at home, in front of a map, a screen, or in a conversation. It begins with imagination. Drawing invisible lines toward places that do not yet exist in my memory, but that already feel like my own. Searching for that exact point where adventure can happen. Hidden monuments, forgotten trails, landscapes that demand more than just desire to be reached. And it is in that process where the mind moves ahead, where it plays, where it builds a story before living it.<\/p>\n

The Journey: “Then the journey arrives. And with it, reality. Which is not always what you imagined… but almost always better. Because things happen along the way. Things always happen. Sometimes small setbacks, other times unexpected encounters.”<\/em><\/p>\n

Then the journey arrives. And with it, reality. Which is not always what you imagined… but almost always better. Because things happen along the way. Things always happen. Sometimes small setbacks, other times unexpected encounters. People who appear without being sought and who, without you even realizing it, become part of the story. Riding partners, filmmakers, photographers… who stop being a team and become friends. And that is where everything starts to make sense.
\nBecause in the end, it is not just about arriving. It is about what happens while you are getting there.
\nThat moment when you discover the place you had been imagining for days, weeks, or months. How the light falls exactly as you dreamed… or completely differently. That instant when you decide to stop, take out the camera, or simply stand still and observe. Because you know that what is in front of you is not just a landscape. It is a story. It is the result of every decision, every pedal stroke, every doubt you chose to ignore.
\nAnd then you take the photo. Or you record the clip.
\nAnd maybe at that moment you are not fully aware, but you have just frozen something much bigger than an image. You have captured an emotion. A memory.<\/p>\n

Text & Story by David Cachon \u2022 Photography by Ismael Iba<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“There is something about the bicycle that time has never managed to wear down. No matter how many years pass, how many kilometers I accumulate, or how many routes I draw on the map: every time I get on it, something inside me returns to the starting point.” There is something about the bicycle that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":15182,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15191","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-unkategorisiert"],"acf":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t