There's lots of long, convoluted stories that have come about as a result of this bikepacking expedition, and this one is no exception.
Along the way I've needed some help, and a few people have stepped up and stood right by me. I've found it surprising at times, occasionally overwhelming, but most of all a humbling experience.
This story goes right back to the start of 2026 when I was deciding which bike I was going to choose for the crossing of Iceland. Was it going to be a fat bike with 4.5-inch tyres, a gravel bike with 50mm tyres, or something in between?
I spoke with Sam at Singular Cycles and he recommended a Singular Swift with clearance for 29+ wheels and 3-inch tyres. It sounded like a good compromise between a fat bike and a gravel bike.
Sam said he might be able to help with some support in exchange for content and the use of the bike at trade shows and events. Unfortunately, he didn't have anything in stock in my size.
This is where the story starts to get lengthy.
I found a Singular Swift in my size on eBay. It had some decent components that I could either sell or reuse on another build. It was listed at £850 and, at this point, I was only watching it and trying to decide whether it was justifiable.
Then, out of nowhere, I got an offer to buy it for £500.
Without thinking too much about it, I bought it, and a trip to Bristol was underway.
I arrived in the old Porsche 924S. Oh yeah, I like old cars too, I have a 1986 Porsche 924S that I've almost completely rebuilt. I'll show you a picture one day. Today is about the bike.
I knocked on the door and Nick answered. Over a brew we talked about all things adventure and photography. Nick is a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, where I've spent a lot of time myself, and he's also a huge Shackleton enthusiast. He even had a handful of Frank Hurley prints dotted around the house.
Frank Hurley was the expedition photographer Sir Ernest Shackleton took with him on the Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition, where Shackleton's ship, Endurance, was crushed by the ice and sank into the Weddell Sea in 1915.
I could go on about this stuff, and I often do.
But today is about the bike.
So now I had this bike. It's beautiful. It rides great. It's almost perfect, apart from one thing.
It's a Mark III Singular Swift, which means it doesn't have the extra bosses for mounting pannier racks, additional water bottles and other accessories. Those were introduced on the Mark IV and Mark V frames.
No need to worry. I'm a problem solver. That's what I'm good at.
I have a friend, frame restorer and painter called Neil Atkinson. His company is Atlantic Boulevard. Neil was once a frame painter for Harry Hall. Harry had a shop in Manchester, but was also Tom Simpson's mechanic and friend.
I dropped the stripped-down Singular frame off with Neil to have some eyelets and bosses brazed in. I imagined the measurements would be fairly standard, but Neil wanted the actual racks so he could measure everything up properly.
The problem was, he needed them the following day because he was heading off on an adventure of his own in the Black Forest.
How could I get a set of racks in a day?
The answer was I couldn't.
I went home and did some research. It turned out the measurements were fairly standard after all, so I explained to Neil that I'd draw up a detailed set of measurements and dimensions and bring those instead.
Then I had another idea.
I have another set of friends, Shona and Rich at Keep Pedalling. I've known them for well over 15 years, in fact since the shop opened in the Northern Quarter around 17 years ago. We're not particularly close, but we always have a good natter when I visit, and they've always been incredibly helpful whenever I've needed them.
I thought I'd nip round to the shop and double-check a few measurements for some fork-mounted bottle bosses.
I explained the whole predicament and somehow walked away with this beautiful black and gold Brother Cycles Big Bro frame, complete with more mounting bosses than I could ever possibly need.
I quickly got on the phone to Neil to tell him I'd found the solution.
Too late.
He'd already sandblasted the Singular frame back to bare steel.
Damn.
I now had two frames, one of which was sitting there in bare steel, already starting to show signs of rust from the moisture in the air.
In the end, I had it powder-coated gloss black and finished it with banana-yellow Singular decals, using artwork from Sam and vinyls from my pal Eddie.
I suppose that's another story altogether.
Let's call this Part One.
