jonnywhite

It has taken me a while to write this final entry. It’s a little intimidating to try to sum up 4 months in which a nutty dream became an intense reality. That reality hit extremes of hopelessness and euphoria, and just about every stop in between.

We rolled into South Africa and then Cape Town in good spirits. I had thought through the finish line ceremonies and goodbyes, and despite (and due to) warnings that it would get emotional, I was nonchalantly videotaping all the way in. I stood at the line filming riders meeting their families and loved ones when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Was it someone asking for change? It seemed unlikely but not impossible. Maybe press? Probably. Interviewers and video cameras were swarming the riders. I turned to face my girlfriend Melanie.

But she was in Toronto. Or at least I had been looking forward, since the trip began, to flying to Toronto to see her at the end of the trip. But she was here. And so not in Toronto. It took me about 4 hours to get over the shock, confusion, and excitement. Mel had spent two weeks touring Cape Town and Namibia, hitting a few of the same spots as the tour only days before or afterwards, but had waited until the finish to surprise me. Once I became conscious of reality again we traveled South Africa together. I have never been more surprised in my life than I was at the finish and I have never been happier in my life than in the past two weeks. How’s that for a nice ending?

And so it’s over. The riders return to their homes all over the world sure that no one else will understand what it was like riding through the sand and corrugation in Sudan, the hills in Ethiopia, or the desert in northern Kenya. No friends or family will relate entirely when you tell them about camping for four months in ten countries with 50 strangers-become-siblings of all ages. The hard-core racers have their results, and to me these befit the people who earned them. A few of us have special pride and a bond of suffering in having ridden every f’n inch of the way. We covered 11,900km in 96 riding days, also climbing more meters on the bicycle in elevation than I will on my four connecting flights home.

And so what was it all about? What did I learn? Well, for starters, the nice thing about taking chances is that the outcomes are unknown (redundant, I know but I’m going somewhere with this). I came to Africa very uncertain about the tour, the countries I was crossing, my riding ability, and my odds of finishing. Although I thought it would be rewarding to do the trip I had no idea why or how. In the end, the lessons I learned are the last things I expected.

1. Making a decision to do something is the hardest part. Once you have made a decision and thrown out all your excuses, other options, and insecurities, you find a way. In the end, no matter how hard it was, you will say “that wasn’t so hard afterall” and will be ready for new challenges, with more opportunities for growth, in the future.

2. Seeing life from a fatalist perspective it is depressing. If you think you “have to” deal with things you don’t want to (e.g. riding a bike through mud for a week) you will not be very pleasant to be around. If you instead see life as a series of decisions in which you can either challenge yourself to grow or back down and stagnate, things that used to be “have to’s” become “get to’s”. You become thankful for whatever you are facing, no matter how tough, because it is your chance to grow.

3. Conquering something alone is satisfying, but does not compare to sharing something with someone you care about. We are hardwired, as a social species, to be happiest when we are loved, loving, and sharing, rather than when we are accomplishing things for ourselves. It took me a long, long time to learn this and it is the lesson from this trip that I am most grateful for. Best of all, I know who to thank.



This is the end. Thank you so much for reading. I have learned that I have more readers than I anticipated (this was supposed to be a time-saving device). Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share a part of my life with you and I genuinely hope that you will be so kind as to tell me about yours.

Until then.

Jonny White

www.jonnywhite.ca
jonnywhite@gmail.com