Courtesy of www.SladeRide.com

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  Home time.

   I’ve spent a couple of months thinking about it.

  And now, I’m back in the UK, with my bike
  (Charles).

  For now at least I feel like I’ve done enough.

  I set out alone from the Arctic Ocean coast of
  Alaska at the end of May 2009, 250 miles
  inside the Arctic Circle, unsure if I could
  make it through the first day, let alone keep
  going for …

  6 months and 5,150 miles or …

  … the equivalent of cycling the length of Africa
  from Cairo, Egypt to Cape Town, South Africa.

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Villa Grove, CO, USA - Alpenglow abounds

Courtesy of www.SladeRide.com

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“Wait here while I get the spear I used to kill him!” he says, running off to his van.

Its almost pitch black, its below zero, I’m at the otherwise deserted far-end of a campsite in a remote Colorado valley and John, half-Irish, half-Sioux has just gone to his ‘RV’ (a converted UPS truck in which he lives year-round) to get said weapon.

“And I put one end on the ground like this and the dagger-end up like this and then, HE RAN!  He ran onto the blade and I twisted and I twisted and held him down until he stopped fighting.  I had no choice.”

John is a Vietnam Vet, ex-Special Forces, a ‘tunnel-rat’, Mossad-trained in hand-to-hand combat.  In the months following the war he, in his own words became dangerously unstable after so much, well, I think you get the picture.  Again in his own words he was saved from the brink through taking a job from his father, as a cowboy spending months on end with a herd of cattle or flock of sheep, living wild up in the Colorado mountains.

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