I've banged on about this in an earlier blog entry, but I have at last set up my just giving webpage.
So, should you feel inclined, you can help someone who needs help, while chuckling with schadenfreude at my exploits!
Cheers,
Tom
Sunday 15 March 2015
Monday 2 March 2015
All Change (Again)
When this trip was just another of my weird ideas designed to ward off a mid-life crisis, I offered it up to a few close friends who I know are into mountain biking. As expected, there was a lot of enthusiasm immediately tempered by (perfectly reasonable) realities. It was the usual things most of us are frequently impeded by; kids, money, time off etc. In the end, the only person who could make it work was John. It helped that he doesn't have kids and isn't married (yet). John's only caveat was that he was having a back op and needed time to recover. For my part, I have a ridiculously understanding wife, and I work for a company who allow unpaid leave.
So we excitedly plotted and schemed and came up with the bones of a route. It looked bloody hard, but just about achievable. As you'll know if you've read the rest of the blog, the route took shape and we started looking for sponsors (with a modicum of success). At the same time we brought in Jim to make it a three (or two if John didn't recover sufficiently). It all looked brilliant.
Then we learned about Holurhaun volcano and it's shifting clouds of toxic gas, and it seemed that all of our planning was for nothing. So, we sat back for a little while and we waited.
Irritatingly Holuhraun continued to erupt, and most experts predicted the volcano would continue for months to come. So rather than give up entirely, we found another route. Not quite as difficult, not quite as long, and lacking the same boasting rights, but also not through a huge cloud of deadly poisonous gas. We also decided that the new route didn't need costly fatbikes (making a mockery of the title to this blog). So we adjusted our expectations accordingly, reduced the annual leave requests, re-assessed the finances and accepted the reduced trip. It was still going to be awesome.
Having made all of the concessions and rearranged everything. we now find that Holuhraun has just stopped erupting. In addition, and much more importantly, John isn't getting any better, and so has (for the time being) stepped away from the trip. The former is annoying, but potentially good news; the latter is very bad news indeed.
Really, it's this sort of wild fluctuation in luck which led the Greeks to dream up their impressive collection of Gods and Fates. It must be malevolent interfering Gods; that's the only plausible explanation for this kind of see-sawing madness. Somewhere on high, there are a bunch of toga wearing bearded chaps, giggling away to each other and guffawing about what they can do next to these stupid humans which might be a bit of a laugh. Bastards.
So I've had enough of trying to second guess volcanos, bearded omni-present mythical deities and the recovery times for bizarre injuries. It's impossible, and impossibly frustrating.
Instead, Jim and I are just going to book the flights and wing it. If we cross Iceland via either of the proposed routes, then great. If it's on fatbikes then that's also great. If another volcano goes off, then that's okay, we'll just find another route. One way or another this is going to happen. It's two-fingers up to Zeus and his pals.
Finally, if you're reading this and planning your own trip, I'll offer only one piece of advice: Remain, at all times, completely flexible and amenable to change. Plan too rigidly, and you've had it.
So we excitedly plotted and schemed and came up with the bones of a route. It looked bloody hard, but just about achievable. As you'll know if you've read the rest of the blog, the route took shape and we started looking for sponsors (with a modicum of success). At the same time we brought in Jim to make it a three (or two if John didn't recover sufficiently). It all looked brilliant.
Then we learned about Holurhaun volcano and it's shifting clouds of toxic gas, and it seemed that all of our planning was for nothing. So, we sat back for a little while and we waited.
Irritatingly Holuhraun continued to erupt, and most experts predicted the volcano would continue for months to come. So rather than give up entirely, we found another route. Not quite as difficult, not quite as long, and lacking the same boasting rights, but also not through a huge cloud of deadly poisonous gas. We also decided that the new route didn't need costly fatbikes (making a mockery of the title to this blog). So we adjusted our expectations accordingly, reduced the annual leave requests, re-assessed the finances and accepted the reduced trip. It was still going to be awesome.
Having made all of the concessions and rearranged everything. we now find that Holuhraun has just stopped erupting. In addition, and much more importantly, John isn't getting any better, and so has (for the time being) stepped away from the trip. The former is annoying, but potentially good news; the latter is very bad news indeed.
Really, it's this sort of wild fluctuation in luck which led the Greeks to dream up their impressive collection of Gods and Fates. It must be malevolent interfering Gods; that's the only plausible explanation for this kind of see-sawing madness. Somewhere on high, there are a bunch of toga wearing bearded chaps, giggling away to each other and guffawing about what they can do next to these stupid humans which might be a bit of a laugh. Bastards.
So I've had enough of trying to second guess volcanos, bearded omni-present mythical deities and the recovery times for bizarre injuries. It's impossible, and impossibly frustrating.
Instead, Jim and I are just going to book the flights and wing it. If we cross Iceland via either of the proposed routes, then great. If it's on fatbikes then that's also great. If another volcano goes off, then that's okay, we'll just find another route. One way or another this is going to happen. It's two-fingers up to Zeus and his pals.
Finally, if you're reading this and planning your own trip, I'll offer only one piece of advice: Remain, at all times, completely flexible and amenable to change. Plan too rigidly, and you've had it.
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