Descisions

They say that 10 years of doing something makes you an expert... 

But after 31 years of practice I'm so bad at making descisions that I can't even spell the word. 

I descided that my thirties would be a progressive decade where I leaped forward and lived a lot; grabbing life by the testicles and valiantly tackling all of life's problems as they were thrown at me. 

I successfully cycled over 5000 kilometers across Australia for the amazing charity that is Bikes 4 Life.

The last leg of the trip (and the first leg in lycra) down the Great Ocean Road (Feb, 2016)

I conquered both the Southern tip of Australia and Mount Kosciuszko with an over-sized teddy bear and a torn achilles.

Mount Kosci (Feb 2016)

Wilson's Prom (Southern tip - Feb, 2016)

I survived the first family reunion in 6 years (and Sydney).

NSW, Feb 2016

I braved the flight to New Zealand and valiantly hopped around by the power of onesy (and thumb).

South Island New Zealand, March 2016

I out-paddled a storm as we kayaked the Abel Tasman.

Day 1 of 5 paddling the Abel Tasman, March 2016

I tackled my first grade 4 white water rapids (only because I was too slow to hop out and carry my pack raft).

Hiking out to the Pelorus river (March 2016)

I licked the tip of the South and the top of the North.

Absolute South (Mar 2016)

Top of North, May 2016

And then I descided it was time to complete my circumnavigation by other-peoples sailing boats.

Whangerei, May 2016

I've spent the last few weeks hunched over with terrible back ache and chronic knots in the shoulder and what feels like cows roaming and grazing on the inner lining of my stomach. My heads been on a spin cycle for 25 days and I still struggle to get a clean thought out of it. I've been unable to function on any normal level; and as you might imagine, that's not quite fitting for my gypsy regime. Why you ask? I've had a terrible case of indecisiveness!

There were too many boats owned by far too many nice people heading in far too many exotic tropical directions and I just didn't know how to chose. Fiji or Tonga or Vanuatu or New Caledonia?? Sail with a family or a couple or a single hander? Do a delivery or go cruising? A mono-hull or a cat? Step aboard as crew or take plunge and go captain?... The descisions were endless!!! And every time I was about to comit (another word I can't spell) a new option would appear.

Yesterday I finally descided to cut the crap and I did it - I took the plunge and made a big life descision! I've just hopped aboard my new home and in the morning we set the sails and wish new Zealand goodbye and well... [watch this space] ... 

Apparently descisions are going to haunt us for the rest of our lives. And you know what? It's probably a good thing!  For most descisions it doesn't matter so much what you choose: The chicken or the beef... going commando or granny panties... it doesn't matter where you go and what you do ... but you only have one life so make sure you make epic ones!

Ted Talks

Well, it's about time Adeena finally let me say something! Jeepers!! - I get lugged around the freaking planet for four and a half years and dragged through all sorts of shit being tied to bicycles and motorbikes and yachts and then she goes and shares her side of the near death experience (because lets be honest, every adventure has a near death experience) seeing some positive light and being all optimistic about our failed suicide attempts that I tried to talk her out of... what the flip?

Central Coast, Australia

Siem Reap, Cambodia

Cameron Highlands, Malaysia

Somewhere, Vietnam

Martinique

Colon, Panama

No, I think the only reason she keeps me around is because nobody else is stupid enough to venture out with her. Don't get me wrong, she really is a lovely girl; but she's clearly flipping unlucky, or got terrible karma, or something!
I mean, how many people do you know who have been shipwrecked and marooned on a desert island, been attacked by both dogs and pirates, fallen into a volcano, had far too close for comfort unplanned encounters with sharks and lions and komodo dragons and molestorisers and a leopard and cassowaries, been involved in 8 motorbike and 9 bicycle crashes, lost their rigging and got stuck at sea for months...!? The answer I'm sure you'll agree is one: Adeena.
Actually, I'll be honest - the only reason I stick around is because I can't run away - my legs are stuffed!

You don't have to look hard to see how I've deteriorated over the years

No, I really don't get it! She's on this big mission to flightlessly travel from Australia to Spain and after 5 years and a month, she's 3944 km further away than she was when she started.
Yes, okay I'll give her credit - she's gotten close - she's dragged me through some 27 countries and we've been around the world once, but how do you just miss Spain? It's right in the middle!

And don't even get me started on accommodation!
Adeena's happy to sleep in a cave or on a beach, or in a weed plantation, or a cinema, or restaurant, or on a strangers floor - but that's only because I'm her freaking pillow. Give me a night at the Hilton for once?? Although they probably won't let her in - she doesn't have shoes.

A bar in Malaysia

On a stranger's floor in Lankawi when she lost me for 3 days.

This is not okay!

Yes this looks like an ideal setting, but after the sun disappeared, this transformed into a bed for the night.

Adeena's definition of luxury accommodation: camping

Yes she got me my own passport - but I know they're thinking it every time I walk through border control- "Wonder what he's laced with?" - Right? No normal grown up carries a teddy my size with them unless they're up to no good. Do you know what it's like to be scanned and dogged and constantly probed by weird men and hairy ladies in uniforms?
And on that note too - it's thanks to her that I've had so many run ins with the law and it's upholders.

Orange isn't even my colour!

Okay, it's not all bad.
I've seen and experienced some amazing things that most people can only dream of.
And being the cute furry co-gypsy has some perks

I'm not normally into men, but I'll tolerate this kind of thing

No, it's a hard life being the side-kick; but Adeena promises that this year will be different!
It's only January and she has already locked in 2 flights (which is a lot for someone who doesn't fly), a bicycle tour, a family reunion, and a shower.
She's even talking about finishing both her circumnavigation and this crazy mission to Spain.
It might actually be a good year.
No, stuff that, it's going to be freaking fantastic! 

Homeward Bound

I was sat in Cairns umming and ahhhing about what to do with my post-cycle life.

Five months remained on my Australian visa and it's a massive country with endless possibilities...

But deep inside I knew there was no place like [make-shift] home...

It might not look like much, but it really is lovely(ish)

...Learning to walk again was much harder than I had imagined. It's amazing how much your muscles change during 2 months on a bicycle.

Fortunately I had a bit of time for my body to acclimatize before heading back to work. And what better way to readjust to normality than a 2400 km hitch hike?

It took me three rides (300 km of which I had a massive [cute] dog, Max, sat on my lap) to get back to these legends in Townsville. And with virtually no notice, they were happy (or at least pretended to be) to put me up in the camper van that was abandoned on their lawn all those years ago.

After dropping the 3 kids off at their 3 different schools, they dropped me on the highway so I could continue my quest home.

Despite having had bad experiences hitch-hiking inland Australia before, I decided I'd grown wiser and would give the inland route another go.

The first car that pulled over made me jump into the driver's seat as we sped towards Charter's Towers. After a beer at the pub another car drove me to the fork in the road where I waited some time for traffic going the right way.

I eventually met a friendly wanderer who offered me a ride to Tawoomba. He was great for the first few kilometers and we had a very intense discussion about the human race and how we had all let him down (apart from the son he wasn't allowed to see) and then he cracked open a bourbon. And another. He was friendly enough to offer me one too - but still buzzing from the morning beer, I declined.

When he asked me to pass him a third, I gave him the "what on earth are you doing?" look. 

He promised it was his last.

There was a pause in the drinking.

Then he resumed.

By this point I was over 100 km from anything on a 40 something degree day riding through the middle of the outback.

On bourbon the 7th he finally pulled over - down a massive bank and behind a scarce patch of trees. 

I'm not going to lie, I was poo-ing myself! 

He mumbled something, stepped out of the vehicle, and wondered off.

I sat pondering whether to make a run for it or to hold too.

A distant buzzing that sounded very much like a chain saw filled the air, and that's when I thought about stealing the car.
He'd taken the keys.
I found my knife and sat praying wondering what to do next.
How far was the next petrol station?
How long till the next car passed?

It felt like hours before he returned and opened the back of his pick-up.
I watched petrified and only breathed again when he simply retrieved a pair of shorts.
He'd shat himself.

He left again.
The chainsaw again (which must have, in retrospect, been an electric fence)
Forever again.

He reopened the back and pulled out a jerry can.
He drenched his shorts in diesel and left them burning on the road as we ramped up the escarpment and back on our way.
I was speechless after that little ordeal.
I was glad to still be alive.

The happiest thing I'd ever seen was a fuel stop on the side of the road.
I asked to stop for the bathroom and proceeded to remove all my belongings at the same time and bid him farewell.
He looked confused.
"I don't drive with drunks"

I found the bathroom and breathed a little before I sat down to a servo pie.
(I'd survived so much already that day - I was probably chancing my luck on the pie)
While I munched away, a man on a motorbike wondered over and asked me what I was doing in the middle of nowhere.
"You walking?"
""Hitching"
"Well you ain't going to get a ride from here, truckies never stop here"

He had barely finished his sentence when a truck pulled in.
The driver walked straight towards the store.
"I suppose you're heading north?"
"South actually" I replied

And minutes later I was on my way again with the friendly trucker who'd been thrown off his normal route due to a break down the previous day.
I was his first ever hitch hiker.
I made another 437 kilometers and hopped off in Emerald where I spent the night under a bridge.

It took me forever to make any real progress on day three, and then, stood at yet another lonely fuel stop, a police officer wondered over (even though I was pretending to not be hitch hiking at the time - I'm not sure which states it's illegal in) and offered me a ride when he'd finished his RBT shift. 

I knew my luck was changing.

He'd just driven away when a truck picked me up.

Kiwi Ian was headed for Sydney.

He was a good laugh and a great philosopher as we crossed the Queensland border and set up camp for the night.

While I slept the freezing dawn away he made pancakes and bacon and what a pleasant surprise it was as I stumbled out of my tent at 6 am!

A hundred kilometers further down the road, I hopped on out laden with bananas and fruits from his freight.

It didn't take long before I was in another truck sat patiently waiting for the driver to receive a phone call to find out whether or not we had to pick up a load or not... 

Ted's personal cabin

We drove 90 kilometers back in the direction I'd just come from to fill up the tanks with grain and then the journey resumed.

Dale was a good egg too:

He stopped off to show me the random sights he'd always wanted to check out, but never had reason to and to quote him:

"You're being cheuffer driven in a multi million dollar vehicle that's way bigger than a limo, all the way home."

12 hitch hikes, 39 and a half hours, 2490 kilometers later, I finally made it home to the beautiful shores of Port Stephens.

Back to the beach and the coffee I know.

And back to this lot.

Four days later I had massive withdrawl symptoms so I bought a bike.

As much as I love hitching, it's nice to have my own wheels and not have to rely on anyone else and that's why I called him "Transport."

He's going to take me everywhere.

The Final Leg

Fully loaded with bananas, well rested, and psyched for what lay ahead; I left Townsville and set off on the final leg.

As always, the road was paved with awesome people and heaps of encouragers.

I was so enjoying the ride that by the time I reached Innesfail (a mere stone's throw - 95 km - away from Cairns), I decided I was far too close and rerouted my trip a little

It's weird how 2 months earlier I could barely ride a bike, hills made my stomach churn, and 80 kilometers took me a whole day.

Now  I was that person who willfully chose to ride up to the Atherton Tablelands (a 1400 meter climb) just to prolong my trip and a few 100 km detours were termed "small"

The detour didn't disappoint one bit!

I timed my arrival perfectly to be the very first customer at the Millaa Millaa Caravan Park

And for the first time on the trip I became an actual cycle tourist spending my days exploring wonders rather than just covering distance.

As always, I gave the serious cyclists a laugh.

But the sense of accomplishment from conquering a mountain was awesome!

From the Tablelands I pushed North and took the ferry across to the Daintree

And pushed on from there to Cape Tribulation

Where I found rainforrests, and pristine beaches and creeks and assortments of delicious fruit

I pushed on further and eventually decided to stop pedaling at Emmagen Creek - the very end of the tarred roads

Cape Tribulation and it's beauty sucked me in for a few days

(even with all the crocodile warnings)

Although it doesn't look it, I was actually quite sad to have conquered the last significant hill of the trip.

And the ferry back south felt rather wrong

But there were a few more minor detours to be made

And then finally, after 2 months of barefoot pedaling with my exceptionally dirty teddy bear.
After 3678 Km of mud, rain, mountains, forests, highways and dirt tracks, breakdowns, smiles, waves, yells of encouragement...
After meeting more amazing people than I thought Australia could hold...
I did what I had thought was impossible - I arrived in Cairns and crossed the finish line.

It's amazing how one gyspy, who knew nothing about bikes, could clamber on an old recycled bicycle and just keep going.

But with the amazing charity that is Bikes 4 Life behind me, I had that Umph I needed to keep pushing - It just shows you that all things really are possible (If I could do it anyone can).
One little cycle trip transformed my life and reminded me how much the human body is capable of and showed me how far a bicycle can take you.

It's quite sad to be at the end of the trip, but new adventures (whatever they may be) lie ahead.
Ninja, my faithful steed, is being added to a container of bikes in Cairns and is on his way up to Cape York to help transform a community up there. 

(it's not too late to donate - go to www.bikes4life.com.au)

I know I have many a cycle tour 

 of me in the future and I hope I've inspired some of you to do the same!

It might be difficult at the start - but the best things in life are always worth working for!