In the past, I have referred to these as ‘My Unwritten Rules of Expeditions’, but I guess that reducing them to writing (or typing) has invalidated that name. They have served me well and, unfortunately, have sometimes reminded me of their existence when I have had to deal with the consequences of having violated them. Here they are, in no particular order.
- Don’t experiment with new equipment on THE DAY.
Test it by riding/running/walking round the block, and/or taking a short shake-down ride/run/hike sometime before. This applies to shoes (if you use them), baggage, computers, phones, lighting, etc., even underpants.
I ignored this rule once, not by choice. Due to an administrative foul-up, my new bicycle—hand-built to fit me—was only available the night before my fourth Argus Cycle Tour. So, the first time I rode it was on a 104 kilometre race. To my relief, everything went well—a credit to the builders—but the fact that I got away with it does not invalidate the rule. - Don’t set out with an existing injury.
Generally, if you do, it is more likely to get worse than to improve.
I have broken this rule more than once. The first time was when I entered a 12-kilometre cross-country race knowing that I had a knee injury. It was a three-lap race and, near the middle of the second lap, I finally acknowledged that, if I wanted to have a future career in running, I should abandon the race. I stopped, and hobbled to the end of the lap. It still annoys me that I baled, because I’d rather have a DNS against my name than a DNF, but at least I got to run for another twenty years.
More recently, I set out on a trip to Central and East Africa, knowing that I had a back injury. After 115 kilometres, I was in such pain that I turned the bike round and rode home. As a result, my trip is now postponed until next year. Had I got the back problem sorted out before departure, I’d now be somewhere near Lake Victoria. - Rather let your luggage be under-weight than over-weight.
Having a background in rock climbing and mountain hiking, I have always taken this rule seriously. When you’re carrying the load on your back, even the weight of your toothbrush becomes significant. I tend to be very frugal with air luggage too. But, I have been slightly unobservant a few times with the motorbike, forgetting that, although the bike carries the weight most of the time, I have to load and unload it, lug my bags up and down stairs, and deal with the bike’s changed handling characteristics. I once sent some of my luggage home by courier because it was just too much to handle. - Rather travel alone than set out with someone about whom you have reservations.
You don’t want to spend time in a foreign prison (or a local one) for knifing your travelling companion.
This is not a problem for me, because I just don’t travel with others, apart from close family. I do, however, remember a few unpleasant trips in my climbing days, when I went into the mountains with people with whom I was not compatible.
I recall an occasion when there was such an acrimonious disagreement in a climbing party that the party split. From a safety standpoint, this is never a good thing to do in the mountains. Mercifully, both parties got down safely, and were able to devote the rest of their lives to disparaging each other. - Whenever someone tells you that they have done exactly what you are planning and it was easy, don’t believe them.
In the same way that borrowing books or pens turns honest people into thieves, bravado can make liars of us all. Always reduce (considerably) any figures that people give you regarding the fuel economy of their bike (or car), the top speed of their bike/car, how quickly they drove between two towns, etc. Also, their descriptions of road conditions, accommodation, etc. will often lean far into the world of fiction. - If you have a puncture and have to use the spare tyre, get the puncture fixed as soon as possible.
Punctures hunt in pairs.
After a bike accident, I was solely reliant upon my car for transport for a few months. Of course, that’s when the car had a puncture. I was in such pain from a bundle of broken ribs that I had to call a friend to change the wheel. The pain was so bad that I left getting the puncture repaired until the following day. When I walked outside the next morning, there it was—another puncture—and me without a spare! I was too embarrassed to call my friend for help again, so I drove to a service station on the punctured tyre. This did not benefit the tyre, and I had to buy a new one. - Research, research, research!
Know where you are going, how to do what you are planning, and what to watch out for. As one can see from the opening sentence of this post, failure to do adequate research can lead—at least—to embarrassment. Often, it can have more dire consequences.
When riding the back-roads of Namibia a few years ago, my careful internet research led me to a backpackers lodge that had been closed for a few years. This taught me that, when looking at an internet page, it is a good idea to check when it was last updated. Or, make a phone call.
Don’t worry, there’ll always be some unexpected things that crop up to give you a good story. Crises are always learning opportunities and generally produce good stories to be enjoyed retrospectively. As Winston Churchill is reputed to have said: “Never let a good crisis go to waste”. However, life is unpredictable enough without your help; you needn’t generate your own disasters. - Time spent in preparation is inversely proportional to time lost dealing with problems caused by inadequate preparation.
For example: On a bike, you can be sure that, if you don’t secure your luggage properly, it will come loose in the heaviest traffic ever, in a torrential downpour, when you are running out of daylight, or in an area where stopping will imperil your life. Inevitably, this will cost you time, if not your life. - If things get bad, stop and reassess. If necessary, turn back.
In my days as a rock climber, one of my heroes was Walter Bonatti, a famed solo climber of some of the great routes in the world. When he decided to solo the Eiger Nordwand, everyone took notice. Vast numbers of people turned out to watch him depart, and to follow his course with binoculars and telescopes. Imagine the pressure.
Renowned as a very safe climber, he went slowly, and then bivouacked for the night. Everything seemed normal. The following day, when daylight came, he was seen to be descending. The climbing world held its breath. When he got back down, he was swamped by reporters. “What went wrong? Why did you come back down?” were the predominant questions.
His reason? He thought it was the sensible thing to do. He, for whom climbing was the be-all and end-all of his existence, said: “No mountain is worth as much as one’s life”. He could see no point in ‘death before dishonour’. Neither can I. Forty-seven years later, he said this: “The real essence of mountain climbing—of really knowing and loving the mountains—is not getting to the top. It's having the humility and self-awareness when necessary to be able to stop 100 metres from the summit and make it down alive”.
Just as Bonatti kept true to the belief that he climbed for pleasure, not glory, so should we in our sports, hobbies, or pastimes. Remember, if it’s a holiday, it’s supposed to be for pleasure; if it’s hurting too much then maybe you’re doing it wrongly. So, stop! As we are often reminded by bumper stickers and T-shirts, the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing. Otherwise, we get like the mythical guy who had his leg amputated in order to lose weight so that he could sprint faster. - Never underestimate the power of denial.
Although mentioned last, denial is what makes us break most of the other nine principles.
I have to admit that, when I set out on my soon-to-be-aborted Africa trip, my back was already hurting—and had been for months—before I even started the bike. It didn’t take me by surprise. However, rule 2 notwithstanding, I set out, firmly convinced that it would miraculously heal as I rode. Ha! No such luck. I do believe in a God who can do miracles, but I don’t think He does them in order to expedite our folly.
We’ve all laughed at the ’tis but a flesh wound scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, but it’s surprising how often we do something similar. If you’ve never seen it, or need a bit of revision, click here.