It’s all cycle-logical.  T-minus 43 days to launch.  Part 1: musing on a theme.  

“The bicycle is the noblest invention of mankind.” William Saroyan, Nobel prize winner

View from the top, to be temporarily exchanged for the view below...

Picture the scene.  I was on standby in H89.  The nerve centre of easyJet to those unfamiliar with it and the only building in Luton you can identify from 39,000 feet.  We’ve tried.  Regularly.  An email popped up, just the usual news and trivia.  Except for a small missive from a mad man who was arranging a 400 mile charity cycle from Glasgow to London in four days and seeking a dirty dozen to represent.  You know how an idea catches the mind and you can't let go?  That was it.

So why?  Assorted reasons, all boiling down to: why not?  We all have our own.  It will be a particular delight to unite colleagues across some very disparate working groups (have you tried pinning down a pilot; you can’t get hold of us some days for in excess of thirteen hours) and cities.  When a jolly Cypriot shipping tycoon thought he’d start a quaint, little airline in 1995 he could have picked a better month than November, anticipating somebody MIGHT want to do something memorable…like sit in the rain for eight hours a day, on ten pointy kilos of metal and carbon, clad in oilskins, whilst aiming south from somewhere in the Lake District.

We have a wide range of abilities, experiences and fitnesses (have you tried sitting in a plane for thirteen hours a day?  Oh, I already said that, that’s the perfectly balanced chip on my other shoulder).  What did Kennedy say before the start of the Apollo program in the mid-1960s?  I’ll tell you, because I find it very revealing and it gives an idea of the madness we are attempting to tap into.  “We choose to go to the moon…not because it is easy but because it is hard.”  Whilst I’m on my soapbox, culture is perhaps a bit too full of an expectation of disposable, air-conditioned, skinny-latte’d, contactless, instantly gratified, X-factor success.  Sometimes going about things the hard way is the only way.  We'll uncover hidden depths (of potholes) and hidden strengths and come back changed in small but significant ways.

We’re all martyrs to the cause now, bonded in….bike oil, so we intend to prove it.

You might say: ‘all these people are hardened cyclists, this will be no challenge for them’.  Think again.  You can do 100 miles in an afternoon with the right bike and the right attitude.  But to replicate that again.  And again.  And again.  When all the muscles are already screaming that once was enough for the week.  Neck.  Knees.  Back.  Add in doing some of that under the cover of dawn and dusk once the clocks go back.  Through unfamiliar territory with some big lumps of rock.  Lake District anyone?  Now consider what the weather does over any four days in November, including a leg in Western Scotland.  Heard that cliché about the Lake District being the wettest place in the UK?  We’ll validate it for you.  We could have the pilot’s four horsemen of the meteorological apocalypse: fog, wind, rain and storms.  We might even see some snow up there.

Ultimately, a four hundred mile traverse of Provence & Tuscany, nursing cheese and pastry just isn’t going to cut the mustard in this company.  Our business is accruing hard (air) miles, so how about we try and replicate that, albeit in a more tortuous format.  We will do it, because we can, and not only that, but because it is fun too, we’ll show you.  ‘Because we can’ is an especially loaded sentiment given we’re doing this for UNICEF who can help us all supply a little more ‘because you can’ to those who currently can’t, topical given what is going on 1000 miles east of here…

Preparation has actually started, only seven weeks to go, which is a bit like casually mentioning to Wiggins in mid-May that he might like to get out his Atlas of Southern France.  In Team Sky they start about a year ahead.  We don’t have that luxury, but then again, we can all ride a bike…a lot and pretty well, judging by the pedalheads that make up our motley crew.  We’re also well versed in these parts at putting some orange shoulder to the wheel and cracking on. 

The other day, Rich & I were thrown into the watery end.  Out in excess of four hours we thought we’d cracked it, no strangers to tearing around country lanes together, but now reunited in pursuit of a common goal.  The stubble fields were golden, the breeze was soft…and an immense, dark wall of cloud drowned us both inside fifteen minutes.  No waterproofs, no lights, with rush hour commuters ducking down the back lanes attempting to flatten us.  It then kept raining for an hour by which point my shoes overflowed and the cars were making bow waves as they fought through it.  I joke to passengers leaving my flights that there is no such thing as poor weather, only inappropriate clothing.  I am about to have this philosophy thrown straight back at me.  Rich & I found it quite funny; you had to.  Only two highly trained, risk-managing professionals could find themselves in such a situation…but you have to leave that aside from time to time and just hit the road.  Just pray that the thorn stays in your side, not a tyre and keep going!  We joked about looking back in eight weeks and referring to that point as ‘the stupidity datum’.  So it shall be.

Van Gogh's wheatfield with crows…about to become an almighty flood & define my stupidity datum

Allez, the road awaits, yet waits for no-one...

Robin