Again, it may not seem a great achievement as adventures go but this is surely relative to the person undertaking them. Not everyone has the constitution or the opportunity to dog sled across the Arctic. Indigenous persons aside, this kind of thing is not really relevant to the experience of Everyman. If anything, hardcore adventuring is kind of selfish. Do we really care if the Amazon is canoed top to bottom, or if the berk trying it just drowns on camera? I mean is bigger always better?
The way I see it, the time I had at my disposal, and the means, were in one way or another gifts, things to be unwrapped and appreciated, otherwise what would be the point? I was sorry to give up Iceland [TBB 5.8] but it was a bit selfish (cost and time-wise) and somewhat unrealistic. By scaling back and slowing down I’d begun to travel in more detail and the more I cut things up and sifted through them the more unexpected gems I encountered. It is like coming across a beautiful ruin in the middle of nowhere and having it all to yourself for the day, simply because it isn’t on the map.
It's a bit whacky but I have to say I believe each one of us can manifest this sense of adventure in the normal course of our lives. Wherever you go you take your own particular view of things, analyses to contribute, even solutions. We evolve on the back of solutions and this is surely as much of an adventure as anything. There was enough adventure in it for me anyway. In a few days I would be expected back home, in one piece, ready to resume family responsibilities. It was important that Jane and Poz could rely on this, you could say it was part of the bargain.
After Ballon I got lost again, but a brilliant fat man and his large lady wife gave me excellent directions to the Bonnetable Road out of Le Mans. I hit it about half way up and mentally flipped a coin for left or right. Left turned out to be right and soon the drive into the Chateau appeared up ahead. I very nearly lost the front wheel on a patch of gravel as I turned in, what cruel ignominy that would have been. Then we pulled up by the Chateau itself, I kicked her into neutral and decompressed the cylinder to stop the engine. Home at last, for the next few days, and time for a well earned beer.
Just as I hoicked her up on the stand, the Chateau owner swung by, clocked the bike and asked how far I’d come. He whistled as I told him and said, “What, on this? You are crazy...and welcome.” he beamed. The bike ticked appreciatively as it cooled, I went to the bar to do likewise.
(Note: this is my 100th post. To celebrate I have uploaded a gallery of pictures from the trip to the website www.theblackbullet.net Just click the rusty bolt - cheers!)
