Last year the TransAtlanticWay was my first long-distance bikepacking race and thus a steep learning curve. With low expectations I managed to finish in a week and just over 11 hours: first woman and third overall. With this experience I felt pretty smug, thinking that I had some time-saving tips up my sleeve, such as using caffeine tablets to reduce time wasted on coffee stops, spying out places to sleep on Google Streetview, and chewing gum to stave off sleep.
"By the time I’d finished my night shift, it was 4am and the atmosphere in the team pits was more subdued. This is the hard part of a 24-hour event. Tired bodies scream, “Go to sleep!” but the craving for warmth and comfort cannot be given into too deeply. With lurking dread you doze, keeping one sleepy eye on the clock, waiting for your next lap to come around..."
If you want to read a bikepacking article about how a wild boar with very big teeth passed ten metres from my tent in a deserted almond grove, or about how I almost got blown off a French bridge because it was blowing galeforce, or about being so cold in a snowstorm that I thought my teeth were going to crack with all the rattling, then stop reading now. All these things happened, but my focus will be on what these and other things do to the mind.
Leaving is far easier than returning. Stepping into the unknown draws me. I like abandoning reality; the normal humdrum of society bores me. I know that life has to continue, the inevitable acceptance of responsibility keeps me coming back, but a thought always lingers: What if I didn’t?
Find out what Lee carried on her bike for the Tour Divide and how this differs from her touring set up.
Lee tells her story of riding the Tour Divide. But "Adventures in Kind" is a surprising story about the kindness of others and the personal nature of adventure.
I have always visualised my year as a square with three months on each side. This winter, like all others, I was looking forward to turning a corner into the new year. 2016 had been etched in sharp relief, with deep, dark canyons and soaring peaks. Emotionally and physically, it had felt like something of a gauntlet – I was glad to have survived but was hoping for a less challenging 2017...
I've heard an adventure called ‘a journey with an unknown outcome’. I seem to have an addiction to them; I’ve never been one for too much routine, certainty or predictability in life, hence the attraction of riding a very long gravel road to a dead end in the South American wilderness.