Preparation, according to the Collins dictionary is 'the act or process of preparing'. Quite lazy. The definition according to the Stephen Collins dictionary however is somewhat different. It involves three crucial steps:
1. Equipment - being 800kms from the bike you are to ride.
2. A strict diet - replacing main meals with profiteroles, and
3. Training - Not using cruise control will assist in foot muscle development.
I have been asked quite often what worries me about the trip. My usual answer is semi-sarcastic involving Ravenshoe, Qld's highest town, and crocodiles. The desire to get on the road and start raising money and awareness has refused my head the spare time to think. But now that things begin to come together such thoughts are dawning on me. I fear that I can't see bike shorts as anything more than public underpants. I fear my inability to function beyond the comfort of a bed on cold mornings. But most of all, I fear my craving of vanilla thickshakes during riding may result in some sort of bloated, lethargic drowning. These are the fears that currently plague my mind.
Thank you to all who have donated so far! It has been a great start and has me really looking forward to raising more money and awarness on the road! I hope to up the target soon after leaving! An article in the Monash leader should be out next week on my ride and the cause which can do nothing but good for raising awareness. Fortunately I have done about as much organisation as I can for the moment so will spend this last week collecting as many donations as possible!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
3 wheels, 6 months, 16 000kms
"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness" - Mark Twain
Those who have travelled surely know the feeling. It descends as the silence of the night comes. A silence one hears every night as the traffic fades and the days curiosity leaves the local dogs. It is part of the routine of a life in suburban Australia. It isn't so much a definable feeling, but as the scenes of the day replay through a tired head it builds, then, by morning it has faded again. And so the new day begins and so the process goes. Another routine to add to an overburdened life. Then the day when, seemingly without warning routine will snap and the words will leave your mouth. "I'm off." No questions, only a statement. For there is no need for questions when your head has toyed with the idea for this long. Yes 'seemingly' without warning it has come, but it has lured you ever since you set foot in your door on return from the last time those words were mentioned. Maybe it's the 'cheap flights' emails you receive. Maybe the plastic travel shows on TV. Or maybe the signs off the freeway that you travel every day to work. That 45 degree angle on a green sign that leads to somewhere new. If routine hadn't set this drive to a glazed expression and a depressed radio, a snap surely would have been forseen. So before those glazed eyes the harshness of the freeway, all metal, concrete, tar and air conditioners fades to become a delicate line upon which routine travels, between the safe and the unknown. This is how it normally strikes. But this time was different. It was not a decision solely based on these feelings. Yes I am not one for routine, but 16 000kms was not the first thing on my cards as a holiday. Do people donate money for someone sitting on a beach with a guitar, drumset and book, doing occasional day bike rides? Maybe I should have asked that first! But a test is what this cause needs and deserves. And seeing this country at the pace of a push bike is what I need to see the cause.
Now the 3rd of July approaches at a quickening rate. Time moves faster than my hands can tick off a list. The wet season up north looms as an unfortunate deadline. It is not something I wish to get stuck in. Come the 3rd however I imagine my vision of a map will become much more focused on the next 20kms rather than the 3000kms above me. Just the road and I. Perhaps the fact the second day of my ride (the day Paul and Andrew turn around) is independence day is rather too appropriate. Though as the kilometers wear on I feel my legs will find their own independence as they become separate from myself, both in pursuit of different agendas. As I prepare, and as it all comes together, everything slowly begins to turn, somehow becoming related to the approaching trip. I glanced up from the mocking odometer of my van last night to see a car pass with 'Don't follow me, I'm going fishing' printed proudly across the spare tyre cover. I've never been one for fishing. Though the idea of tranquil lakes and peaceful surrounds is not a concept I'm opposed to, I just haven't been drawn back. Most fisherman will tell you that it's not the catch that they enjoy the most, it's waiting. Yet without the flurry of water, the moments of struggle, the glint of a knife blade, and the altered surface of the lake I feel few would return. This indeed could be why I myself am not lured towards it. Nothing bit. Travel, for all it's similarities is however something that draws me back (ever since a three month trip of Europe). But maybe that's because I feel there had been a flurry (Heathrow airport), a struggle (Prague airport) and though fortunately this story lacks the knife blade, such a trip could surely do nothing but alter ones view of the world. Yet maybe the fact I don't know how to kill a fish says more than anything. For what is the point of altering a view without the knowledge of how to use it for change or nourishment? All I know now is that it isn't that hard to make a difference. I leave with the view to change rather than be changed. Well, I'm giving it a shot.
Oxfam Australia is working in Indigenous communities to help improve all the basic rights other Australians take for granted. They are, in Oxfam's words 'the most disadvantaged group in the country in terms of income, unemployment, imprisonment, child protection, health and wellbeing indicators, life expectancy and education.' This is what I am intending to raise money for. Also on this ride I intend to raise awareness for Oxfam's 'Close The Gap' campaign, which is working to close the massive 17 year life expectancy gap between indigenous and other Australians. It primarily aims to address such issues as health, housing and education. In the crucial area of health, indigenous communities are to have greater control and participation in the delivery of health services. The Government is being called upon to help with all these issues and have the gap closed within 25 years. You can help through signing the pledge at http://www.oxfam.org.au/campaigns/indigenous-health/take-action/sign-the-pledge.php . Hopefully the awareness I raise can help make it less than 25years! Thank you to all who sign and/or donate!
Donations can be made through:
http://everydayhero.com.au/gearedforchange
Those who have travelled surely know the feeling. It descends as the silence of the night comes. A silence one hears every night as the traffic fades and the days curiosity leaves the local dogs. It is part of the routine of a life in suburban Australia. It isn't so much a definable feeling, but as the scenes of the day replay through a tired head it builds, then, by morning it has faded again. And so the new day begins and so the process goes. Another routine to add to an overburdened life. Then the day when, seemingly without warning routine will snap and the words will leave your mouth. "I'm off." No questions, only a statement. For there is no need for questions when your head has toyed with the idea for this long. Yes 'seemingly' without warning it has come, but it has lured you ever since you set foot in your door on return from the last time those words were mentioned. Maybe it's the 'cheap flights' emails you receive. Maybe the plastic travel shows on TV. Or maybe the signs off the freeway that you travel every day to work. That 45 degree angle on a green sign that leads to somewhere new. If routine hadn't set this drive to a glazed expression and a depressed radio, a snap surely would have been forseen. So before those glazed eyes the harshness of the freeway, all metal, concrete, tar and air conditioners fades to become a delicate line upon which routine travels, between the safe and the unknown. This is how it normally strikes. But this time was different. It was not a decision solely based on these feelings. Yes I am not one for routine, but 16 000kms was not the first thing on my cards as a holiday. Do people donate money for someone sitting on a beach with a guitar, drumset and book, doing occasional day bike rides? Maybe I should have asked that first! But a test is what this cause needs and deserves. And seeing this country at the pace of a push bike is what I need to see the cause.
Now the 3rd of July approaches at a quickening rate. Time moves faster than my hands can tick off a list. The wet season up north looms as an unfortunate deadline. It is not something I wish to get stuck in. Come the 3rd however I imagine my vision of a map will become much more focused on the next 20kms rather than the 3000kms above me. Just the road and I. Perhaps the fact the second day of my ride (the day Paul and Andrew turn around) is independence day is rather too appropriate. Though as the kilometers wear on I feel my legs will find their own independence as they become separate from myself, both in pursuit of different agendas. As I prepare, and as it all comes together, everything slowly begins to turn, somehow becoming related to the approaching trip. I glanced up from the mocking odometer of my van last night to see a car pass with 'Don't follow me, I'm going fishing' printed proudly across the spare tyre cover. I've never been one for fishing. Though the idea of tranquil lakes and peaceful surrounds is not a concept I'm opposed to, I just haven't been drawn back. Most fisherman will tell you that it's not the catch that they enjoy the most, it's waiting. Yet without the flurry of water, the moments of struggle, the glint of a knife blade, and the altered surface of the lake I feel few would return. This indeed could be why I myself am not lured towards it. Nothing bit. Travel, for all it's similarities is however something that draws me back (ever since a three month trip of Europe). But maybe that's because I feel there had been a flurry (Heathrow airport), a struggle (Prague airport) and though fortunately this story lacks the knife blade, such a trip could surely do nothing but alter ones view of the world. Yet maybe the fact I don't know how to kill a fish says more than anything. For what is the point of altering a view without the knowledge of how to use it for change or nourishment? All I know now is that it isn't that hard to make a difference. I leave with the view to change rather than be changed. Well, I'm giving it a shot.
Oxfam Australia is working in Indigenous communities to help improve all the basic rights other Australians take for granted. They are, in Oxfam's words 'the most disadvantaged group in the country in terms of income, unemployment, imprisonment, child protection, health and wellbeing indicators, life expectancy and education.' This is what I am intending to raise money for. Also on this ride I intend to raise awareness for Oxfam's 'Close The Gap' campaign, which is working to close the massive 17 year life expectancy gap between indigenous and other Australians. It primarily aims to address such issues as health, housing and education. In the crucial area of health, indigenous communities are to have greater control and participation in the delivery of health services. The Government is being called upon to help with all these issues and have the gap closed within 25 years. You can help through signing the pledge at http://www.oxfam.org.au/campaigns/indigenous-health/take-action/sign-the-pledge.php . Hopefully the awareness I raise can help make it less than 25years! Thank you to all who sign and/or donate!
Donations can be made through:
http://everydayhero.com.au/gearedforchange
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