June 2014 – Vague Direction

An unusual, exciting, or dangerous experience. Most of the time these blog posts fade away quickly and it’s hard to know if they’ve been read much, but very occasionally one gains a bit of momentum and gets shared around. A few weeks ago ‘An Open Letter To Self-Proclaimed Adventurers’ caught a little pace and it was surprising to see a few reactions. In hindsight the cloudiness of that post is a bit cringeworthy.

One reaction was “That’s an idiotic piece. Getting kidnapped is not an adventure, going over Niagara is a gamble not an adventure. The only one of the 3 stories that is an adventure is ‘No Picnic on Mount Kenya’.” It was tempting to write back with ‘ur an idiotic piece’ but this is the internet and adding fuel to the fire never works well. Another reaction was “I don’t get it. Does it mean we should all just stay at home because everything’s been done already?”. This was saddening as that conclusion is the opposite of how it was supposed to come across. Oops, sorry!

Adventure, going off the dictionary definition, is: an unusual and exciting or dangerous experience. Seeking those experiences is totally worthwhile, for everyone. Doing the thing you’ve wanted to do for ages helps you grow. Ticking off that trip or that thing which frightens you but calls out to you anyway. Has everything been done? No, that’s impossible because it’s subjective. From getting over your stage-fright and walking onto a standup comedy stage for the first time, to riding a bike a long way. It is infinite, it is for everyone, it is worthy, it is real, and simply embracing adventurous experiences has a positive impact.

The intended meaning was: If you want to go and have an adventure, go and do it. Don’t be put off by titles, or inexperience, or lack of ‘the best gear’. Do the thing that calls out to you. If you’re a receptionist – you can have an epic adventure. If you’re a teacher – you can too. If you work in insurance – you can as well. And you should! I really hope that anyone reading this will at some point pursue their big adventure (whatever that means) that is close to their heart.

Finally, one person said: “so are you saying that people shouldn’t write about their adventures?”. No, who is anyone to say that? Crumbs, this blog does just that! Quite the opposite – if you like sharing stories, that is awesome! And reading about people seeking out new experiences is brilliant. From people who frequently go on trips as a career, cool, but everyone else too. Say a caretaker who just ran a fell-race, a student who launched a satellite, a fisherman who plucked up the courage to take part in a rap battle. (Basically, the original post was an ill-thought-out vent about seeing a small few act like they owned something that can’t be owned.)

Moving on to the cool stuff!

If you were asked to choose, can a single moment rise to the top of many? I asked some peeps who’ve chased experiences that called out to them, one thing. To describe their most adventurous moment. Their responses are fun and insightful and sometimes unexpected – enjoy, then get planning!

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Leon McCarron:

“I’ve had my fair share of pretty ‘adventurous’ (or downright stupid) moments – listening to bears sniff at the flysheet of my tent in California, teetering over precipitous cliffs in Chinese mountains, capsizing a packraft in a remote Iranian gorge… when it comes to doing silly things in exciting places, I’m a pro. But I also know that without a doubt my most adventurous moment of all was very different from those higher adrenalin escapades.

The bravest and more daring thing I’ve ever done was cross the George Washington Bridge out of New York City on my first big trip. Physically there was nothing hard about it, nor logistically – there was even a bike path all the way across. Mentally, however… man, mentally it was a war zone. Every fibre of my being was terrified at the prospect of leaving behind all that I knew; swapping the familiar and the comfortable for a heavy bike, a cheap tent and an endless white line heading west. I would have found it so easy to give up right there, to turn around and make plans to fly home to the UK. Somehow – through stubbornness, stupidity and a small but growing realisation that things don’t always have to be fun to be worthwhile – I pushed on over the bridge, into New Jersey, and into the adventure of a lifetime. Since then, I’ve never looked back.”

– – –

Rachel Atherton (photo: Laurence Crossman Emms)

“I suppose people would think that racing mountain bikes down mountains at speeds of 60mph every weekend all around the world for a living was adventure enough but I disagree!

You get so used to whatever you do day to day, no matter how adventurous it may seem, so adventures to me are things that I don’t get to experience, days out on the sea in boats, inflatable kayaks through quaint towns, but my most brilliant adventure that I still love thinking of was taking myself to Europe when I was injured and having a year off, I must’ve been 19, I camped for weeks in my tent with my bike, at lakesides and up mountains, the thunderstorms from the tent were amazing, I rode every day exploring the mountains, collecting wild strawberries and bilberries to go with breakfast, washing in the lakes and waterfalls, stealing vegetables from gardens (!!) and making friends with locals who plied me with homemade alcohol.

It was one of the most exhilarating, free, happy times I’ve ever had. A real adventure because I was away from the normal, away from technology, away from comfort, it was real living, being as close to mother nature as I could be, to me that is what an adventure should be.”

– – –

Tom Allen:

“I was dragging my bike through a thousand kilometres of sand towards Dongola in northern Sudan. The Nile lay to my right, shimmering, tempting, as I sweated in the midday Saharan heat. I wondered what was on the other side of the longest river in the world. (Nothing, according to Google Maps.) The idea took hold, and when I arrived at the next Nubian village I tracked down the owner of a small boat and convinced him to give me a ride. And so it was about halfway across the world’s longest river, outboard motor sputtering, cool water spray on my sunburnt face, that I realised that not only did I have absolutely no idea where I was going, but that this leap into the unknown was precisely what made me feel so damn alive. This, right now, was my most adventurous moment to date.”

– – –

Sarah Thomson (photo: Kate Czuczman):

“To me an adventure means taking a risk. Sometimes you run into trouble, and sometimes it turns out to be the most epic moment of a lifetime. One of my most adventurous moments was whist backpacking with a friend of mine in Indonesia. We awoke early, packed our rucksacks and headed off with no idea of direction. We passed peaceful lagoons, chilled out cafes and tiptoed through local farmlands, attempting to climb coconut trees for refreshment on the way. We walked for hour upon hour until we reached what we believed to be the end of the world! A huge of bank of black sand saw the end of the ever growing palm trees and we both stopped in awe. We laughed and told stories the whole way and yet when we reached this bay of black we had nothing to say, but just sat and soaked in the love of a wonderful adventure.”

– – –

Charley and Sophie Radcliffe:

Charley: “I am constantly challenging the title of most adventurous moment but they keep having one thing in common: being somewhere I didn’t know I could get – whether I’m leading a hard (for me!) rock route, or running London to Brighton across fields and country paths. The moments that get your heart rate up, make you worry, and then break through the other side.”

Sophie: “For me adventure is all about trying something new, embracing the unknown and having the faith in myself that I’ll get there but also knowing that failure is part of the journey. It’s about sharing the highs and lows with friends, making new bonds, strengthening existing friendships, feeling like you’ve shared something you’ll never forget. It’s about the rewards and how well deserved they feel! The accomplishment, feeling of confidence, the beer and eating of cake. It’s about living and feeling alive.”

– – –

George Foster:

“I used to think I was adventurous but the furthest I’ve been from civilisation in the form of say a phone or a car or whatever would be a few days camping in Scotland or a couple of days on a mountain in the Indian Himalayas. Not exactly Ernest Shackleton. I guess I may have done adventurous things to those uninitiated with fell running or those whose definition of adventure is markedly different to mine. It’s all a matter of perspective.

If it’s what you’re into, then all my adventures in running have been adventures of the mind. Many hundreds of people have run further or faster. Maybe not so many have done so at night, over hills, in the wind and the sweeping rain. Then again, maybe you have, in which case skip to the next guy!

This is the closest I’ve come to a real adventure. Something where the outcome is far from certain. Running towards the mountains without a headtorch to see what it’s like. The feeling when you float up the steepness and come face to face with the moon. Uncertain starlight giving way to a flood of brilliant radiance and you are able to pick out instantly a boulder here, or there, a puddle left from the evening downpour. All that was invisible moments before, now open for your private viewing.

That doesn’t have much to do with the mind on first glance. I’d argue that it’s experiences like that which remind you why you race on the fells. I need reminding sometimes when I’m racing. Legs melting into screaming lungs. The challenge in a lot of these isn’t to win but often just to finish. That’s the mental side. The not knowing is the adventure. The not letting your body give in when you do know. I think it takes a lot of courage to run up a hill into a gathering blizzard. Courage… and stupidity.

Anyone can have an adventure, though. As I said it’s a matter of perspective. When I’m 94 I’m gonna relish the not knowing if I’ll be able to make it to the toilet without pissing myself. How adventurous is that?!”

– – –

What is an adventurous moment you look back on?

[p.s. Leon’s book is out on the 7th July and involves getting chased through cornfields from a gun-toting alcohol-soaked rancher, and Tom just released a technical ebook that anyone interested in bike touring should check out.]

Yesterday I fell down a well. In the well there was plenty of exploring to do. It was just like you’d expect it to be. Skeletons, coins, and rays of sun which hit the water like a spotlight. No not literally – literally falling down a well would be ridiculous. It was the well of new insights.

This is a post about something that I don’t understand, because even though the words continue and are one-sided, goals remain a big driving force. A bunch of you are probably similar and have a large amount of impatience when it comes to your progress. So this post is hypocritical. And it doesn’t have much to do with adventure. But sometimes writing about stuff can be a good way to attempt to understand it, and that’s what this is. (Shoutout to the awesome Delve.tv for the inspiration and insights)

Loads of us have struggles with ambition vs. contentment, goal setting vs. happiness, being excited about where we are now vs. looking towards where we want to be.

Selection bias is when something is reported but is biased and inaccurate. Reported ‘success’ is plagued with it. The outlets we watch, read, and listen to all suggest that we should invent an app in our twenties and sell it for a billion dollars within 18 months. It’s mostly about winning with speed, whilst we’re young. But fast-success is like winning the lottery and rarely happens. We gloss over slow-success – the kind that is achieved by plugging away. We gloss over the years of hustle. The years when it doesn’t work.

There’s an actual reason why we only hear about the fast, young success stories. And this is the bit that blew my mind whilst in the confines of that well: a few influential marketers caused us to celebrate young and fast, because it sells more stuff.

Madison Avenue in the 50’s. A bunch of ad execs got together and decided to sell products to younger people. Why? Because you can sell more stuff for longer to younger people. Companies make more money because younger people buy things for their whole lives. It’s not as hard to persuade a young person to buy something than an older person who’s already picked whether they’re Team Coke or Team Pepsi. It’s marketing, and it’s the reason and the root of why we are conditioned to think that it’s normal to reach ‘success’ fast and young. But it’s not actually very normal at all.

Da Vinci was born in 1452. Let’s call him L D V because everyone loves an acronym. He got a painting apprenticeship when he was 14. He then got a few freelance gigs, messed them up completely, and no-one would hire him to make stuff anymore. He had to paint dead criminals to get by. But during his dark days he kept making, kept bashing out work, kept painting. Kept creating for 16 years and still nothing happened. It was 1498 when he had a breakthrough and made something that anyone cared about. It was called The Last Supper and apparently it’s alright.

Same story for most people. Think of someone you know who you think has it all figured out now, delve into their story and I bet you’ll find that wasn’t always the case. There’s generally this long and sustained period of failure before anything happens. We’re happy to ignore that it takes years. We’ll gladly disregard the first 9,000 hours of the 10,000 hour rule because the story’s not as good if that bit is mentioned. We think overnight success when it’s closer to 20-year success.

It seems like there’s a few takeaways. We should be ambitious, because it’s a powerful driver. If bigman L D V stopped being ambitious, and stopped being persistent towards his mission, then that would’ve been bad news for him, and for the world if that’s your kinda thing.

For the grand missions, we shouldn’t worry or become too impatient if things take longer than expected, or longer than is ‘normal’. Because modern normal has literally been skewed for profit.

If we are driven by a meaningful goal then we should be happy for it to take time, and expect this time to be when people doubt. Doubt is OK if you’re committed to the long-game. Here’s some of my own selection bias: People doubted Google in 1998. Guess what, doubters? They just brought out a self-driving car which will use sensors to stop people being killed in car accidents. No-one in their right mind doubts Google anymore. They remembered to never listen to anyone who isn’t in the ring. They remembered to be stubborn in times of doubt. They remembered that critics who chime in without ever having made anything are trolls.

It’d be really easy to end here with a mega-cliché. The classic one that you know already. Featuring the words journey and destination. Urghh, sorry. Let’s not do that.

Shouldn’t ignoring the goals and taking joy from the process be the most crucial ingredient? Seeing something taking shape should be the reward. Everything else should be a side-effect that isn’t the focus. Maybe we should ignore the pressure for things to happen quickly because that’s what we’ve been brainwashed to believe is normal when it isn’t.

When the meaning behind doing what we do is the right one, the slow plod is the right path. Because without even knowing it we’ll probably look back and realise that, whilst it might seem like a process wrought with irritating plateau’s and speed bumps, we have come a long way and are taking steps forward. Perhaps that’s more important than success or reaching a goal. Perhaps that is enough?

(p.s. here’s a more adventure-centric post for Sidetracked about going for a walk in Alaska.)