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Foreword
Sir Ranulph Fiennes, OBE
Alastair Humphreys expedition was out of the ordinary.
In todays world of dashing up Everest in less than a day, sailing round the world in 10 weeks, and best-selling books about three-month motorbike rides, Alastairs journey stands out as amazing. It was probably the first great adventure of the new Millennium.
This journey was an old-fashioned expedition: long, lonely, low-budget and spontaneous. It was a life on the road rather than a whirlwind break from home.
An expedition lasting four years requires tremendous persistence, flexibility and self-discipline. To cycle, mostly alone, so many thousands of miles down the lonely roads of some of the worlds wildest regions demands great strength and toughness mental as well as physical.
When Alastairs carefully prepared plans to ride through Central Asia to Australia collapsed, he would have been forgiven had he shrugged his shoulders at the tough luck, given up and returned home to have a go at something else. But to change his route so drastically, to turn spontaneously and ride instead through the Middle East and Africa showed enormous determination, lateral thinking and a love for life and for adventure.
He aimed high, minimised his risks as best he could, and then leapt in with enthusiasm, trusting to the general good nature of mankind to help him through. The reward was an impressive circumnavigation of the planet crossing five continents that a journey! Alastair certainly did not take easy options on his journey (a winter in Siberia, a summer in the desert of Turkmenistan are examples) and this of course made success all the sweeter.
Alastair set himself a ferocious challenge, an old-fashioned quest, and got on his bike to see how hard he could push himself, what he could endure, how far he could go. He must be proud of pulling it off, against the odds and against the doubts of so many.
I am sure Alastair learned a great deal, about the world, about himself, during the often lonely weeks and months and years of hard work. This expedition demonstrated that all things are possible if you work hard enough to achieve them. I would like to congratulate Alastair on his impressive accomplishment and wish him the very best of luck with his future exploits.
Sir Ranulph Fiennes
Explorer
Contents
The Road Ahead
All that you are experiencing now,
will become moods of future joys,
so bless it all.
Ben Okri
Days are long on the road. Pack up and pedal into the dawn. Ride until sunset. Its easy to kill time but you can kill distance only by riding. Roads roll on forever, linking and connecting and reaching so far ahead that to think about the end is to think of something that feels impossible. So settle for today, for earning the small distance that the days long hours will allow you. Roads drenched with rain, stinging hail, pulsing heat, slick ice, buffeted by winds on loose gravel, deep sand, tangled rocks, thick snow. Roads of smooth tarmac down mountainsides on sunny days with warm tailwinds and scenes of impossible beauty. Roads furious with traffic through grim slums, bland scrub, concrete jungles, polluted industrial wastelands. Monotony in motion. Roads too hard and too long that break you, expose you, scorn you, and would laugh at you if they cared. Roads too hard and too long that you pick yourself up from, have a word with yourself, and make it to an end you once doubted. Roads you have never ridden to places you have never seen and people you have never met. Days end. A different sunset, a different resting point, a different perspective. A little less road waits for you tomorrow. A little more road lies behind you.
Choose your road. Ride it well.
For my vast support team of strangers, who became friends.
If youre not hurting youre not riding hard enough.
If youre not hungry youve eaten too much.
If youre not cold youre carrying too many clothes.
If you know you will succeed its too easy.
Beginning
Dreams in the dusty recesses of my mind.
TE Lawrence
My journey begins. The bags are packed, my head is shaved (a new beginning type thing) and I can think of no convincing excuse to back out. I am trapped on a runaway train that I set in motion myself but now am powerless to stop. I dont want to do this. I wake up feeling physically sick with fear. I cant do this. I roll out of my bed for he last time, open my curtains for the last time and look at my beautiful view of the Yorkshire Dales for the last time. I realise that if I take stock of all these last times then I will be in floods of tears before I even make it downstairs (for the last time). I have to do this. I focus my efforts on smiling for the sake of my parents. Everything seems surreal. Is this really happening to me? I dont have to do this, do I? I stuff a tin-foiled pack of sandwiches into my panniers as if I was heading out on a jolly day trip, awkwardly wheel my heavy, cumbersome bike out of the garage, wait while Dad asks the neighbour to take a final family photo, hug everyone goodbye, and I am off. As easy as that. I have crossed my first border: from dreaming of a big journey to being somebody who is on that journey.
The start is inauspicious. After 50 metres my mother yells at me for forgetting my helmet and I have to trudge back to the garage for it. I then realise that, despite the months of research into mountain roads of the Andes and Sudanese border crossings, I have no idea which road to take out of my village. So I guess. I guess wrong. And my father shouts, and points me right.
Finally, I round the corner, my home is gone and it all hits me. The mounting pressure and months of denial all explode inside me, and I burst into tears. I have just left from my front door to try to cycle around the planet. I have left behind everyone that I love. If I was a brave man I would turn around right now. Go home. Go home, and admit that it was all too frightening. Instead I keep pedalling.
What on earth are you doing, Al? You bloody idiot.