We have the view that sport in general has been losing its sense of magic and wonder in recent times. In part due to scandal and in part to the reduction of all achievements to a bunch of numbers and all title-winning efforts to a scientifically predetermined plan.
We wanted to do something that re-embraced that magic of old. We wanted to participate in the frontier-type adventures of Lawson and Wentworth, to be pushed to our limits, in over our heads all while exploring a true wilderness.
So we threw away the conventions of modern day cycling: the lycra, the training bible, the diet, and the carbon fibre road bikes. We stopped talking about our form, we stopped talking about other people’s form, we stopped stopping at the coffee shop, and we stopped worrying about the height of our socks. We ignored everyone else’s opinions.
We picked a route we knew would be extremely challenging, would have us end up in places way off the beaten track and with people we’d normally be too afraid to approach. We told Mum and Dad, and then we just went and did it.