Regardless of where we were born, mankind’s urge to explore transcends all differences of nationality and faith. It remains an emblem of universality deserving of a wider global study.

Ironically, though the public has long yearned for fresh voices who could share their hard-won wisdom, in the corporate-dominated world, where finances always come first, meaningful dialogue with the world’s leading explorers has been passed over in preference to slick ads and predictable yearly awards.

That is why I am proud to announce the launching of this valuable new series.

The Voices of Exploration project is designed to be an ever-expanding data bank of interviews and wisdom. My friend, Basha O’Reilly, is one of the Founders of the Long Riders Guild, who has already launched the Voices of Authority equestrian educational program.

Camels in the Sahara when we crossed from Lake Chad to Tripoli

John Hare worked in Kenya for the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP). During this time he undertook a number of expeditions into remote parts of northern Kenya, travelling all the time with camels and frequently alone. This re-kindled a life-long passion for camels.

In 1993, he took advantage of a chance offer from a Russian scientific team to research the status of the wild Bactrian camel in Mongolia – the 8th most endangered large mammal in the world. The wild camel is a critically endangered species numbering no more than 1000, and only survives in four habitats in the Gobi desert in China and Mongolia.

In 1995 and 1996 John Hare became the first foreigner to cross the Gashun Gobi Desert in China from north to south and to reach the ancient city of Lou Lan from the east.

In 1997, John Hare founded the Wild Camel Protection Foundation (WCPF), www.wildcamels.com , a UK registered charity of which Dr. Jane Goodall DBE is the Life Patron. In 2002, the Chinese government agreed to the establishment of the Lop Nur Wild Camel National Nature Reserve in Xinjiang Province in the former nuclear test site. Measuring 155,000 square kilometres and almost the size of Bulgaria or Texas, the WCPF became responsible for helping the Chinese to establish one of the largest nature reserves in the world, protecting not only the wild Bactrian camel but many other IUCN Red Book listed endangered fauna and flora. John Hare is the sole international consultant for the Reserve.

In 1999 John Hare discovered an unmapped fresh water desert spring, deep in the heart of the Chinese Gobi, which contained a naïve population of wildlife. Wildlife, which had never seen man.

In 2001/2002 Hare crossed the Sahara Desert from Lake Chad to Tripoli, a journey of 1500 miles to raise awareness for the wild Bactrian camel. This journey was undertaken to raise funding and awareness of the plight of the wild Bactrian camel and lasted for three and a half months.

In 2004 the WCPF established the Hunter Hall Captive Wild Bactrian Camel Breeding Centre at Zakhyn Us in Mongolia with twelve wild Bactrian camels, which had been captured by Mongolian herdsmen. This is the only place where the wild Bactrian camel is held in captivity apart from two zoos in China and in 2010 the population had increased to twenty-five. With advice from the Zoological Society of London (ZSL), there is a plan to undertake the first release of the captive wild Bactrian camels back into the Gobi desert.

In 2007 John Hare was the first person to circumambulate Lake Turkana in northern Kenya with domestic dromedary camels to raise funding for the wild camel.

John has just returned from an expedition in China which Prince Albert of Monaco’s Foundation for endangered species and Ran Fiennes’s Transglobe Expedition Trust generously supported.   In an email to Basha O’Reilly he wrote: “We encountered extremely low temperatures and two sand storms of considerable intensity and our head Kazakh herdsman (one of four) had his right arm removed from its socket by a kick from a camel. The arm was manipulated by the other three herdsmen and went back into place with a resounding ‘plop’ amidst a grind of gristle.”

John is now safely back at his home in Kent, and kindly agreed to answer Basha’s questions.

Voices of Exploration – John Hare

John Hare and favourite domestic Bactrian camel - Kum Su

Who do you think was the most influential explorer in history and why?

Ibn Battuta, because his journeys in the fourteenth century spanned nearly thirty years and covered almost the entire known Islamic world, extending from North Africa, West Africa, Southern and Eastern Europe to the Middle East, India, Central Asia and China He travelled more than 75,000 miles, a figure unlikely to have been surpassed by any traveller until some 450 years later with the arrival of the steam age.

Who inspired you to become an explorer and why?

Colonel Percy Fawcett, because as a young boy I was totally gripped by the story of his travels into the Brazilian jungle in a search for the Matto Grosso and Inca gold.

What is your favourite exploration book and why?

Exploration Fawcett (see above)

Lou Lan ancient city (we were the first expedition to reach it from the east in recorded history)

What is your favourite exploration film and why?

I do not have one.

If you were travelling to the South Pole in the “Heroic Age,” would you prefer to travel with Shackleton, Amundsen or Scott, and why?

Shackleton for his superior leadership qualities. I feel I could relate to Shackleton more so than to Scott or Amundsen

Wild camel and calf (the only photo ever taken of a wild calf under

What was the most dangerous situation you survived?

There are two:

(1)When our truck broke down on the brittle rock salt of Lop Nur in China. Our tyres were being shredded and we had to put cooking oil into the engine as we were burning oil faster than we were using petrol. I estimate we were at the time 250 miles from the nearest person in any direction.

Also (2), when 20 of our 22 camels ran off in a sand storm leaving us marooned on the dried-up lake of Lop Nur, shortly after the Chinese had exploded an underground nuclear device. We were separated from our vehicles by 280 miles of one of the most hostile sections of the Gobi desert during the season of extremely turbulent sand storms.

What is the single greatest change you have witnessed in the exploration world since you began?

The power of satellites and their ability to provide communication no matter where you are in the world

Crossing the dunes in the Desert of Lop China (former nuclear test site)

What modern technology or techniques do you find most helpful?

The Global Positioning System

What piece of equipment always goes with you?

A compass

Which book would you recommend to would-be explorers today?

Kim by Rudyard Kipling. I always carry it into the desert, not because it helps with exploration but because it is a very good read and provides great solace when times are tough.

What would you tell young explorers to be wary of?

Over confidence

Why is it important for humans to continue exploring?

If ‘exploration’ in the broadest sense ceases, then the human race will stagnate and eventually die out.

Which of your achievements do you think will be most remembered?

I hope it is the establishment of the Lop Nur Wild Camel National Nature Reserve which protects the wild camel in China’s former nuclear test site.

Books by John Hare:  Mysteries of the Gobi: Searching for Wild Camels and Lost Cities in the Heart of Asia

The Lost Camels of Tartary: a Quest into Forbidden China (foreword by Dr. Jane Goodall DBE)

Shadows Across the Sahara: Travels with Camels from Tripoli to Lake Chad

http://www.johnhare.org.uk/

http://www.wildcamels.com/

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Gee, what a busy week! Early Tuesday morning last week I flew to Stockholm and the Travellers Club and their monthly black tie meeting. The speaker of the day was Elisabeth Tarras-Wahlberg, who spent a year working for the Emir of Qatar -Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani- to teach him and the Qatari royals how to be European Royals. She used to be the right hand of the Swedish King. Anyway, I always enjoy these meetings and I was primarily there to try to  hook the club up to a guided tour to Patagonia and the Eastern Island next year. I flew back to Malmö after the meeting and came back at 1 in the morning. I got up two hours later with the rest of the family to catch an early flight out of Copenhagen for Dublin and the 1st Killarney Adventure Film Festival. Once in Dublin, we took a rental and drove 5 hours across the island to possibly the new adventure hub of the world – Killarney and its wild and beautiful surroundings.

The organizers of the Festival, the Explore Foundation run by Tim Lavery and Ripley Davenport, set us up at the 5 star Killarney Park Inn Hotel and Pamela and myself had a feeling this would become a festival that we never would forget! I have been to quite a few festivals, annual dinners all over the world and such fancy things -which I like- and I just wondered how this one would differ. It was a festival like no other I have been too!

One thing I really like with the Irish is how genuinely helpful, down to earth and extremely relaxed they are. (So relaxed in many ways that the Jamaicans would be jealous!) And Tim especially, who was running the first film festival. Ripley, his partner, arrived to Ireland at the same time as us, with all of  his family of 4, to set up a new life on the island. They have left Denmark until the end of eternity. They have lived there the last 10 years, felt it was time to move to something more lively and challenging, so Ripley have set up a foundation together with the local wizard and hard man, Tim Lavery, for something very much needed in the exploration scene. Something genuine. Like Tim Lavery himself.

“I had an offer from a potential sponsor” , Tim told me, “if I brought a really big name over from Britain, one sponsor would underwrite the whole Festival, but after talking to this fella they wanted, a polar explorer from Britain, I realized that it was best for everyone involved he didn´t show up. He wanted big money to come and didn´t care who was there, what it was about or anything. Therefore, we decided not to invite climbers or south pole and north pole skiers, since they in most ways, have nothing to do with exploration, but is mainly adventures to fulfill personal dreams, but not for the good of the rest of the world.”

Tim told me this the next morning before I had a lecture at a local school for 13-14 years olds. I enjoyed it thoroughly and nothing makes me happier than when these people of the future have a lot of questions at the end and seem to enjoy every second of the talk, which is intended to inspire and is part of the Explore Foundation idea.

After the lecture we went off to meet the mayor of Killarney Cllr. Donal Grady. Therefore, the group who went to the Mayor was made up of two young, ambitious and hungry names in the adventure world, photographer and camel herder Jeremy Curl and the funny Belgian adventurer Louis Phillipe Loncke, plus the young, very gifted and very cool film maker Brian Leitten, my sponsor and good friend Steve Dutton from Termo, who signed up with Tim as a supplier and Ripley Davenport as an athlete. And me, who will never ski to any of the poles or climb Everest and call it an Expedition. I would call all three of them a holiday adventure just to possibly fulfill a personal ambition. Tim in his very courteous way lead us all to the mayors office. It turns out the the local government wasn´t only backing the Film Festival in every way, but they were as down to earth and nice to deal with as the rest of the adventurous one´s in the office!

My wife Pamela, the daughter Eva and me went over to visit Ripley Davenport and his family at their new home after lunch. I have been communicating with the Davenports since Ripleys great Mongolian Journey and his wife Laura wrote about the life as a wife of an explorer and I have admired them a lot. Keeping a family together isn´t easy for an explorer, but they have made it with their two great kids. Together, during possibly some of the worst times in the history of Ireland, due to their economical problems, the Davenports decide to move here and start a new life. That takes a lot of guts and of course they will succeed. It also turns out that they´re all even better humans than I had expected. What a fantastic family! Ripley feels like a half brother to me.

And what happened at the Film Festival?

Well, it was so relaxed I didn´t really know what was happening until the final evening, Saturday, when there were more explorers and adventurers than locals at the extremely relaxed award ceremony. Tim, this great and extremely kind and generous Irish fella, basically stood in the doorway and exit of the cinema and announced without too much detail and explanations that Ed Staffords film from his amazing Amazon walk had won in competition with about 200 other films. I had left my three films, but have no idea what happened, except since they were in a foreign tongue with no translations, it couldn´t be understood by the jury. Which was made up of Tim and Ripley.

Whilst the rest of this great and very enjoyable and funny lot of people went off to a bar with Irish music, we left for Dublin airport at 2.30 morning. I had saved 20 dollars by booking an early flight.

I am very happy to have been part of the 1st Killarney Adventure Festival!

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(By Mikael Strandberg/CuChullaine O´Reilly, first published on ExWeb) The book the Long Walk – a true story of a trek to Freedom by Slavomir Rawicz has inspired generations of arm chair readers and explorers world wide. Since it was first published 1956 it has sold more than 500 000 copies and been translated into 25 languages. Between Christmas and New Year the Hollywood movie The Way Back hit the screens in the US and the UK. It is based and inspired by the book. But the big question is, did the Long Walk ever happen? And if, by who?

The Long Walk

The Long Walk caused a sensation when it came out 1956. Allegedly a true story of a great escape from one of Stalin´s terrible gulags, initiated by the young Polish cavalry officer Slavomir Rawicz. In April 1941, he escaped from camp 303, located south of Yakutsk, in a blizzard together with six other prisoners. Instead of choosing the shortest route to freedom and survival, by walking 2500 kms (1500 miles) east for the Pacific Coast and a possible boat to Japan, they headed directly south. 18 months and 6500 Kms (4000 miles) later only four of them reached freedom in British India in September 1942. Three died during the trek. Possibly the hardest walk ever.

To reach British India, under-provisioned and with hardly any equipment except their worn camp clothes, they crossed the dense Siberian taiga in deep snow, during one of the coldest recorded winters in history, passed Lake Baikal and continued through Mongolia, suffering extreme heat in the Gobi desert, before they made it to Tibet. Once on the plateau they crossed over the Himalayas into British India. After having arrived as free men, the four survivors split up, never to meet or talk again. Slavomir Rawicz was hailed as a hero when the book came out. But was it a true story?

Slavomir Rawicz

The authenticity of the book, which was ghostwritten by a Daily Mail reporter, Ronald Downing, was questioned from the outset. Eric Shipton, a legendary leader of Mount Everest expeditions, was one of these critics. He noted many inconsistencies about the distances mentioned. Explorer Peter Fleming, who knew the Himalayas very well, called the book a hoax. However, Rawicz met his hardest opponents at a lecture in London 1956, speaking about his book for a group of Polish ex-servicemen. While Rawicz was speaking, several men jumped up and claimed they had known the author before and during the war, that he had been in the infantry and not a cavalry officer and that his story was nothing but a lie. Rawicz never spoke again in front of his own countrymen. He claimed the hecklers were all communist agents.

BBC and Hugh Levinson

Until his death in 2004, Rawicz managed to avoid most of the critics, by either saying he had forgotten details, blamed the ghostwriter Downing for embellishing the truth or just by ignoring the questions which gathered more strength by the day. But, all along, he maintained that he had done The Long Walk.

Along comes BBC Radio 4 in the year 2006 and aired a documentary produced by Hugh Levinson, which destroyed Rawicz’s credibility. The BBC uncovered two really damaging pieces of evidence, proving that several of Rawicz’s claims were false. First, it was revealed that Rawicz had signed a document proving that he had been (a) freed in Russia, (b) went to Persia, and (c) had never been in India. Secondly, it was proved that Rawicz had been freed from the Soviet gulag camp in 1942, when he supposedly was making the Long Walk.

Looking for Mr Smith

The same facts were discovered by American researcher and traveler Linda Willis. She became fascinated by the Long Walk story ten years ago, and since then has been researching every aspect of this controversial escape story. Her book, released in November 2010, is entitled Looking for Mr Smith. In it Willis tries to find out who was the American member of the group of escapees. The author points out one of the oddest things about Rawicz’s story: that the four survivors, neither got to know each other well during the escape nor kept in contact after reaching British India.

Though Willis’s research didn’t reveal the identity of the elusive Mr. Smith, she did prove that Slavomir Rawicz never made the Long Walk. But, she concluded, somebody else might have.

Another version is discovered

There are quite a few escape stories from this era. For example, that of Cornelius Rost, the German man who escaped from Kolyma and allegedly walked to Turkey. He wrote a book, And As Far As My Feet Will Carry Me. Also Alexander Dolgun revealed a similar tale in An American in the Gulag.. But did anyone really do The Long Walk as described by Slavomir Rawicz?

The BBC and Linda Willis believed that The Long Walk had been made, possibly by another Polish man named Witold Glinski. Willis learned about Glinski in 2003. BBC reporter Hugh Levinson was tipped off about Glinski’s version of events after his first programme in 2006. In 2009 a reporter for Reader’s Digest, John Dyson, made Glinski famous by publishing an article claiming he was the man who really made The Long Walk.

Witold Glinski

Witold Glinski´s story is essentially identical to the The Long Walk described by his fellow Pole, Slavomir Rawicz, minus some outrageous claims, such as meeting the Abominable Snowman and not drinking water for thirteen days whilst crossing the Gobi Desert. Glinski told reporters he fled the gulag in February 1941. According to his own account, he was 17 years old when he journeyed to British India with his group in eleven months. The escapees, Glinski said, had walked 6500 kms (4000 miles), averaging 20 kms/day (12 miles).

Why did Glinski wait 50 years to tell his story?

Glinski told reporters that even his wife didn’t know the full story of his escape until 2003. In interviews with Linda Willis, the BBC and Reader’s Digest, Glinski claimed the reason he kept silent was because he was afraid of one of his fellow escapees, a murderer called Batko. Glinski asserted that he met the dangerous criminal in England, where both men had resettled after the war. When Batko threatened him, Glinski reported him to the British police, who arrested the Long Walk escapee. Because of this incident, Glinski maintains he was worried for the rest of his life that Bartok would seek revenge. When the original Long Walk book appeared, Glinski feared that the author, Rawicz, could have been an alias for Batko. So even though Glinski says his own story had been stolen, he never dared contact Rawicz.

How did Rawicz get his hands on Glinskis story?

Glinski says the most likely explanation is that Rawicz read his account of the escape, in official papers that he found in the Polish Embassy in London during the war.

Is Witold Glinski telling the truth? Did he do the 6500 km Long Walk from a camp near Yakutsk to British India?

Glinski has convinced reporters Hugh Levinson and John Dyson, author Linda Willis, and the young Polish explorer, Tomasz Grzywaczewski. They all feel he is very convincing.

They also say Glinski comes across as very honest, seems extremely credible, and always ready to answer any question or deal with conflicting opinions – even though he has no documentation to back up his story.

Doubts.

After weeks of intense research and interviews, tomorrow ExWeb will question Glinski’s claims when it reveals new evidence.

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ON EXPLORING

By

Kate Harris

Thoreau, a ne’er-do-well Harvard grad who mucked about in the woods rather than seeking a steady job, once wrote, “Do what you love. Know your own bone; gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it, and gnaw at still.” Exploring the wildest places on this planet; writing to honor the wonder and perplexity of life on it; and advocating for wilderness conservation in the process - such are the bones I gnaw at, bury, unearth, and gnaw at still.

I have always been drawn to the far-flung. As a little kid I dreamed of becoming a Martian colonist, or failing that, a self-declared citizen of Antarctica. My family lived in rural Ontario, where mountains and oceans and places like Mongolia effectively seemed as alien and unattainable as Mars, so I figured heck, why not aim for Mars?

In the meantime, I devoured books on space travel and polar exploration, on the great land and sea voyages of discovery, on scurvy and frostbite and gritted-teeth striving in wild places. Words served as my portal to the wider universe, and the worlds they brought to vivid and immediate life were incendiary to my imagination. A fierce love for language and for exploration were for me inseparable from the start. And really, they are two and the same, each a variation on what you might call wilderness.

My first bonafide expedition was a month-long Outward Bound course in Utah, made possible by the Morehead-Cain scholarship. After growing up in farm country, where the widest horizon framed a field of corn and the tallest summit was a haystack, the stark and tortured geology of the southwestern desert hit me like a revelation. There I was, a gawky scholarship student displaced from the Canadian backwoods, lugging a fifty-pound pack and gaping at a mountain for the first time. It was torture. It was sublime. So began my life beyond treeline.

A decade later I count myself lucky to have swallowed dust on all seven continents. From stalking wild horses in the Gobi desert of Mongolia, to biking across the Tibetan plateau, to scouring the Chilean Altiplano for evidence of aliens, to collecting groundwater from the McMurdo Dry Valleys of Antarctica, among other adventures, it’s been an amazing ride. High latitudes and altitudes are my natural habitat, and I am pulled again and again to immensities of sky, stone, and ice.

So whether exploring through science or writing, on a bike or on foot, solo or with friends, on this planet or beyond, my simple goal is to move, be moved, and move others in turn. Here we so incontrovertibly are, to my continual shock and amazement: alive on a spinning chunk of rock in a random solar system in a universe reckless, exuberant, and vast. Every age is the age of discovery; every one of us is an explorer; every moment of genuine awareness is a frontier. And wilderness is all around.

Kate Harris is a young Canadian writer, adventurer, and wilderness pilgrim. A nomad who loves unfenced countries and far-flung life, Kate has lived, researched and expeditoned in some of the harshest places on all seven continents. As a Rhodes Scholar at the University of Oxford, she wrote a Master’s thesis on transboundary wilderness conservation and conflict resolution, with a focus on the Siachen glacier dispute. She then earned another Master’s degree in earth sciences at MIT. Kate was named a 2010 “Woman of Discovery” by Wings WorldQuest for her efforts to advocate for wilderness conservation across borders. Her latest expedition is Cycling Silk, a year-long bike journey exploring transboundary conservation in the mountains of
the Silk Road (see www.cyclingsilk.com). Her official website: www.kateharris.ca

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Part of The Long Walk articles, for the freshest article, go here!

Two weeks ago I wrote a story about three young Poles, Bartosz Malinowski, Filip Droszdz and Tomasz Grzywaczewski, who had done an extra-ordinary Expedition from Yakutsk to Calcutta. They floated 2200 kilometers down the Lena River, trekked 1000 kilometers alongside the eastern Baikal Lake shore, followed by 300 kilometers of horse riding and finished off 4500 kilometers on a bicycle through Gobi Desert to Calcutta in India. Basically to put emphasis on the famed Walk by Slavomir Rawicz, who has been made into a bestselling book and will now be filmed by Hollywood. They, among many other authorities, claim that it wasn´t Slavomir who did the walk, but another Pole named Witold Glinski. Once their story was published, well, I have spent a lot of my time trying to handle all the mail which has poured in, for and against Witold Glinski. Opinions have also been made on my last blog report here, see the comments. So, I have asked Tomasz Grywaczewski to write and prove his point for Witold Glinski. I have also asked Richard Rawicz to prove them wrong.

Long Walk to freedom

by

Tomasz Grzywaczewski

The pure facts

“You must follow your own path”.

We heard these words one March afternoon in the small cottage somewhere in the very far end of Cornwall Peninsula. The man who said them indeed had chosen his own way and made one of the most epic escapes in world history.  His name was Witold Glinski.  He told us an absolutely amazing story which began in the 1940’s.

On the remote North of Siberia, seven prisoners got out from Soviet labor camp (lagier) in Yakutia. Walking on foot, they escaped to Calcutta in India. They fled during a snow blizzard and crossed around 7.000 km through one of the most inhospitable parts of, not only Asia, but the whole world. They forced their way through the Siberian taiga, the Gobi Desert, the Tibetan Plateau and at last the Himalayas. The group of seven came from diverse backgrounds.  Four were Poles, one American, one Ukrainian, and one Yugoslavian but only four people reached their goal. Three Poles people died in the Gobi and on top of the World staying forever among the Asian wilderness.

This extraordinary story was described by another Polish former GULAG prisoner Slawomir Rawicz. His book entitled “The Long Walk. The True Story of a Trek to Freedom”(1950), with the help of English journalist from the “Daily Mail” Ronald Downing, turned out to be an overwhelming success. It became a bestseller, especially in the USA and UK.  The book was published with a few million copies and it was translated into twenty five languages. Even today “The Long Walk” is regarded to be on the most famous book ever written by Polish author.

However, there is one problem: Rawicz wrote the book as his memories. Simply, he claimed that he escaped for Lagier. For four decades nobody doubted his truthfulness. But in 2006, after Slavomir Rawicz’a death, BBC reporters found out the documents that clearly show that indeed the “Long Walk” author was imprisoned in Lagier but he could not have escaped from it because he was released on the basis on so called Sikorski – Majski agreement (settlement between Polish Government in Exile and USSR authorities).

Doubts grew bigger and bigger. It started to become obvious that the whole tale about the Great Escape was imagined and then suddenly, another journalist John Dyson from Reader’s Digest meet by accident Witold Glinski the man who said to be the real hero of “The Long Walk”. Dyson, as a journalist investigated and concluded that Glinski was not a liar after all, Glinski indeed escaped from Siberia and reached India.  Dyson based his theory inter alia on the report of British intelligence (MI 5) officer Rupert Mayne, who was serving at that time in Calcutta and who strongly, claimed that Mayne was interrogating the group of people who told the same story as Glinski.

These are the facts. But what about us and our project “Long Walk Plus Expedition”?

The expediton

It is true that “The Long Walk” was worldwide bestseller and indeed it was almost everywhere except in Poland. In our country almost no one has ever heard abut the Great Escape. The book could not be published during the communistic era and after the collapse of totalitarian regime, no one was interested in publishing it. Eventually, the very small circulation was printed by a little publishing house and it occurred that readers were absolutely not interested in reading it.

This year the Hollywood movie “The Way Back” (directed by Peter Weir) is going to be released. This incredible escape is probably going to become famous once again. But what if history repeats itself? Will it be popular everywhere with the exception of Poland?  I thought no we have to do something to remind people in Poland and around the world that the leader of the escapees was a Polish hero. We wanted to show a fascinating part of our history cannot be forgotten.

So we did it. We organized expedition on the trails of prisoners and traveled by boats, horses, bicycles and finally on foot the distance from Yakutsk to Calcutta. We had to challenge rapid rivers, thick taiga forest, thousands of mosquitoes and midges. We were suffering hungry in remote Barguzinskie Mounatians and dying from horribly thirst in the Gobi desert. We fought hurricane winds and high elevations when cycling through Tibet. We encountered dozens of extremely friendly people. On the other hand, we experienced extremely dangerous forces of nature. Somehow we touched the travels of our heroes. Of course, our situation was incomparably better, we were well-equipped, physically prepared and we a good idea about the regions on our route.  Still we managed to feel the inhuman reality of loneliness traveling across Asia and we proved that such an escape was extremely difficult and a demanding challenge, but still a possible one.

During last six months we also had an opportunity to compare content of “The Long Walk” with the reality. We discovered that there are a lot of mistakes in Rawicz’s book. I do not want to make a register of errors but some of them are so obvious that I just have to mention them. First of all Mongolia is still a nomadic country and definitely it was even more nomadic half a century ago. For centuries the most common Mongolian shelter is “ger” – round movable tent. When Mongols move looking for the new grasslands for their herds they just fold their tent and change living place. Contrary to Rawicz’s opinion houses with flat roofs were popular in Tibet but not in Mongolia…

The Gobi desert is not just a big dune. It’s not Lawrence’s style Sahara with sandy mountains glittering in the sunshine. In its biggest parts it is flat, rocky plain without plants and extremely little inhabited. But Gobi is also one of the most diverse deserts in the world. There are also deep grassy gorges, semi-deserts and high mountains. But it is not possible to walk through Gobi for a week or two without any water supplies. Temperatures there reach 55°C degrees and in such conditions traveler gets dehydrated very quickly and is dead after two/three days. We were drinking three bottles of water a day and in spite of it we were getting dehydrated extremely quickly. Our noses were bleeding, lips cracking and our minds totally focused on two simple things: water and shade which can protect us from the burning sun.  Water is essential for survival.

The Himalayas, the highest mountain range in the world with famous colossuses: Qomolangma, Annapurna and Kanchanjunga; the land of eternal snow and steep, rocky ridges. Summits that have become the obsession for dozens of adventurer souls with whom many died trying to reach their dreams. When British mountaineer George Mallory was asked: “Why do you want to climb Mount Everest”, he simply replied: “Because it’s there”. He vanished during this attempt but the question if he was able to conquest the peak is remains open. “The Long Walk” descriptions of going over the Himalayas are the literary record of the mythological idea of mystical Roof of The World.

There is myth and there is reality. In fact, it is possible to cross the Himalayas without any climbing. There are of course huge inaccessible summits but at the same time there are also wide, vast passes that can be reached, using the modern word, trekking. The Nathu La Pass between Tibet and Indian Sikkim has been a caravan route for hundreds of years. Over 3,000 of British Soldier, commanded by colonel Younghusband, crossed it during the British Expedition to Tibet. If they could do it why should it have been a problem for the small group of seven wanderers? We cycled through the Himalayas and surprisingly it was one of the easiest parts of our journey. Tibet itself with its hurricane winds, low temperatures and constant uphill roads was much more challenging.

So as for the Gobi, Mongolia, the Himalayas –we were there, we saw it, we experienced it. And I can say that, to my disappointment, at least this part of the “Long Walk” was written by somebody who has never been there…

The meetings

Tomasz Grzywaczewski - inhabitant of Lodz, law student out of reason, journalist and traveler out of passion.

It requires a deep, professional knowledge to properly understand the meaning of evidence gathered in the case of Rawicz/Glinski dispute. To my mind evidence about Slavomir Rawicz and also the serious mistakes in the book itself clearly support the theory that he did not escape from the GULAG. Nonetheless it is unquestionable merit of Rawicz that thanks to his book the whole world has heard about Long Walk. If he had not written it, maybe we would have never known about Great Escape.  As for the author of “The Long Walk”, his contribution was to publicize this incredible story.

On the other hand, I met Witold Glinski at his home in UK. I made an interview-documentary movie about him for Polish public TV.  We were talking with Glinski for three days, asking him many, many questions trying to find out if he was telling the truth. It occurred that his story was very coherent and full of details that seem to be difficult to process. Moreover, his speech was extremely emotional and it was obvious that he must have been personally engaged in this story.

It is important to stress that he is very old and also bed-ridden. He has been blind for a few years, and he has recently undergone a major surgery. It is hard to imagine that this man in his age can lie in such a convincing and precise way. Since this meeting I have been strongly convinced that Witold Glinski is the real hero of “The Long Walk”. But… doubts remain. The reason lies in the crucial time frame. There is no evidence which might prove that Glinski is a conman. Although there is also no crucial proof that can definitely settle this argument. We just need the documents which confirm that such a prisoner escaped from labour camp.  They have not been found yet. However, it’s possible that they would never be discovered because a lot of documents from Lagier’s administration vanished or destroyed. It concerns especially the prison camps which were not gathered in bigger “camp groups” (e.g. Siewwostlag governed by Dalstroj Company in Kolyma range) and which functioned like independent units. To the best of my knowledge almost all Lagiers in Yakutia were such an “independent entities” so very often there is no evidence of their existence, not mentioning the register of their prisoners.

In Yakutsk we met with historian from Yakutia University and he gave us the register of Lagiers in the Republic of Sacha with the map of its localization attached. After a few weeks we reached the forgotten labour camp in the middle of taiga which was not indicated or in the register or on the map. How many more unknown Lagiers is waiting deep in the wilderness for a discoverer?  We do not know it and maybe we will never get to know because they disappear extremely quickly destroyed by swamps, weather conditions and seasonal taiga fires.

The History Strikes Back

The Siberia; the distant and dangerous world almost unknown for the most of Europeans but for us, Polish people, Siberia is something more than just a fascinating, sinister Land of the East. It is place where thousand of our compatriots were imprisoned and murdered by the communistic regime. It is some-kind of cursed land. Solzhenitsyn’s “The GULAG Archipelago” has a very tangible meaning for Poles. Actually, this Archipelago is the part of our history therefore it is also a part of us as a nation.

However, I do not like martyrdom and I hate grieving over past tragedies. I prefer to talk about the history in the modern way, show it as a fascinating adventure with great heroes. Especially, taking into consideration that the evil was defeated, USSR collapsed and dozens of nations regained their sovereignty. That is the point of “The Long Walk”. It is great, romantic story about freedom, which should be something familiar to us but is sometimes not. It is not only an adventurous story about surviving in the extreme severe conditions. It is a more universal tale about fighting with the totalitarian system which was designed to change individuals into the slaves. The essence of this story is that these people won! Seven starving and exhausted men defeated the whole NKWD machinery of violence.

I am not a historian, and I do not feel qualified enough to evaluate the authenticity of historical documents. In fact, it was not my aim as an explorer to resolve this dispute. “The Long Walk” and Witold Glinski are the symbols of undeniable will of survival who became a free man. They are first of all symbols of Poles, Ukrainians and other nationalities that suffer from tyranny of insane dictators who built the GULAG Archipelago. American journalist, Anne Applebaum says in her book “Gulag”: This book was not written “so that will not happen again” as the cliché would have it. This book was written because it almost certainly will happen again. Totalitarian philosophies have had, and will continue to have, a profound appeal to many millions of people”. I hope that Long Walk Plus Expedition will contribute –even in a small extent, to remind people about the nightmare of totalitarianism. I do not know if it will change anything. Probably it will not, but at least we have tried.

Links:

Long Walk Homepage

Article on ExWeb about their Expedition

Previous article on Mikael Strandberg´s homepage with comments on the subject

Article about Sylvain Tesson, a French adventurer who has done a similar walk.

Discussion at the bottom, the comment page, between Tomasz and Richard Rawicz.

Article by BBC.

Discussion on the net between their families.

Article in the Daily Mirror for Witold Glinski.

Google Answer on the subject.

Tomasz Grzywaczewski – inhabitant of Lodz, law student out of reason, journalist and traveler out of passion. He ate couscous from one bowl with Berbers in the Atlas Mountains and took Mongolian snuff. The press spokesman of Explorers Festival, one of the biggest in the world festivals of mountains, nature and extreme sports. Regular partner of travel sections in newspapers: “Wprost” and “Dziennik. Gazeta Prawna.” Fascinated by treasures of the Solitary Planet which we will never wholly learn, but which we can try to explore. That’s why he “doesn’t waste time, doesn’t wait” and in his reportages tries to describe and understand reality that surrounds us. He may forget his toothbrush, but he will certainly not forget his notebook and camera. He detests routine, and feels the best on the way, when everyday is a new adventure and challenge. In his life and expeditions, in accordance with the words of Robert Frost, from “two roads diverged in a wood” he chooses “the one less traveled by.”

I was one of many who followed Ripleys intrepid and ground breaking Expedition, with his Molly, through Mongolia. He went through some very hard times initially, when I communicated with his wife Laura often, who, of course was worried. She even wrote a blog report for me about the good and bad things which comes with being married to an adventurer. A report which has received many readers and put her as number seven as they most read guest writers I have invited! Her husband Ripley as number 5, regarding his article how it is being a dad and adventurer, is placed fifth. The mostly read is still this one!

This time I asked Ripley, who is a very kind, emotional and very positive person, to write an article about what it feels like coming back home from a big Expedition. I personally have always found that extremely difficult. This is Ripley´s report!

My 52 days of self-imposed expulsion has come to a conclusion. I went to Mongolia to do a smidgen of walking. Across the entire country in fact. I know some people will immediately yelp in horror at the idea of a someone going to Mongolia, with picnic basket in hand, to walk, usually those who either have never been there themselves or who don’t know the place well, but we shan’t have that dispute all over again. Let me just say this zesty little stroll suited me perfectly. I was up in the mountains, leaping across the Gobi Desert and hopping over the Steppe. The weather was delightful without being ridiculous, the people ditto – double ditto. It’s an unusual life, but it seems to be the only way I can earn a living and be happy.

I fire up my life back in Denmark with stacks to do, so I shall be hitting the ground running. I also have numerous speaking engagements and shall be engaged in scribbling speeches and preparing addresses as well as writing my future book and catching up on the mass of obligations and mail that my absence has essentially caused. I also have an expedition to arrange for next year, several guiding trips and one distant expedition penciled in very lightly in 2012. So, once again, I hope those who are looking to harass me and solicit for some of my time will be aware of the fact that while I may be back in Denmark very, very few of my hours belong to me.

For this blog, I shall reflect on what it’s like to be home. I have the good fortune to have got my hands on a cup of coffee from my wife, a rare thing nowadays, and a couple of chocolate biscuits (cookies for you US followers), which is also a rare thing as my wife chomps on them before I get a look in.

So, I will relieve myself (pardon me – not literally) on my thoughts.

I’m still trying to get my head around to the fact that I’m back. I am in no way devastated but the more I think about all this, I can see that I did accomplish something else beyond that of walking over 1000 miles, the end of a 52 day slog, which is an impressive pace for a man in his 40’s and a lifetime of luggage.

I’m still trying to get my head around to the fact that I’m back. I am in no way devastated but the more I think about all this, I can see that I did accomplish something else beyond that of walking over 1000 miles, the end of a 52 day slog, which is an impressive pace for a man in his 40’s and a lifetime of luggage.

If I had of completed this walk, right to the end, I envisage that it would be a pretty magnificent feeling rated right up in the book of Pretty Magnificent Feelings – Volume 1.

Maybe I could even be forgiven for being just a tad proud of myself. But I am rightly proud of myself beyond explanation.

Even though I didn’t put the cherry on this long ramble across Mongolia, I did glaze it with a fine layer of double chocolate cream and a sprinkle of hundreds and thousands. I am extremely proud of myself and get quite emotional when I think about what I have been through and the experiences and lessons I have acquired.

I envisioned a fanfare of photographers, journalists, friends, family and other interested bystanders standing by the hot dog trolley but to be honest, there was nothing remotely resembling this depiction.

Walking through the glass sliding doors at the airport, customs officers staring at my gear, heart racing and palms sweating, I actually didn’t want it any of this and was happy to be able to make my way, silently, to the train and make my way home. Sat next to three stinky students having a delightful conversation on how far 5km is and it would be far better to catch the bus from the train station, I marvelled at what I had done. I do have a number of theories about my lack of self-congratulation, and it’s probably an amalgamation of all of the following:

1. I didn’t quite make it. I did try and, I feel, tried my dammed hardest, pushing my body to its absolute maximum and at times beyond.

2. Thoughts about my next expedition. I am already busy planning for the next adventure, pencilled in to start May 2011. Where? It’s back to Mongolia and the Gobi Desert but this time not solo. So I have to get everything ready. There is equipment to be replaced, supplies to be sponsored, and some money to raise. This doesn’t leave much time for resting on my hairy backside.

3. Remembering how long it was since I changed my underwear.

My Mongolia trek was the toughest thing I had ever done. The highs and lows (mostly lows) of crossing this vast landscape completely solo officially pushed me beyond my limits, and sitting on the plane, looking down at the shrinking landscape was heartbreaking and my mind flooded with a mixture of feelings. I broke down.

How can I compare it? Imagine finishing a marathon, winning an Oscar, finding a lost sock, and getting out of jail, all rolled into one.

The lessons presented and the mistakes I made have make my desert travels and life more comfortable, and off course there is the greater confidence that comes from having done it. So my arrival no longer has that same level of euphoria.

My mission continues: Walking is only half of the story. I can’t sit back and congratulate myself on a job well done because I never actually completed the entire trek as planned. I congratulate myself in a different way and a more personal way, (behave)!

It’s wonderful being back at home. It’s wonderful to have an ice cold drink, use softer toilet paper, sleep in a comfortable bed and scoff a variety of delicious food. It’s strange to sit on a toilet and watch TV. However, all I continue to want at the moment is to hug my wife and kids, hug my kids some more, and slowly return, in mind, to my family and thoughts of my future plans and build on being a better human being.

This is no time to be patting myself on the back or clapping my hands as there is much work still to be done, and as ever, I am trying to figure out how I can be most effective in making a difference in the lives of other people.

If I ever get too impressed with myself then it will all go horribly wrong, funny around the edges and gooey in the centre (center to all you US followers), I am sure. My life has been full of things going horribly wrong and pair-shaped. At times, the path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the devil’s own satanic herd. I’ve made some cracking bad decisions and done some pretty stupid things in my time that I regret. I’ve been as poor as a church mouse, which had an enormous tax bill on the very day his wife ran off with another mouse, taking all the cheese. It’s only the last decade or so when things have gone better. So my feet are most definitely still firmly on the ground, and I am still just the same person I ever was; just a bit more sand blasted and weather beaten and with a few new experiences and grey hairs under my belt.

So although it is very nice to bask a little in the afterglow when accosted by a few people wanting to shake my hand, hug me tightly, buy me a beer, or to do interviews, I am in no danger of getting too big for my boots anytime soon. But lest this all sound rather subdued, rest assured I am in high spirits. Content, without being complacent. Smiling, without being smug.

I achieved a milestone in my mental state. A milestone in my limitations and a milestone in my personal achievement. While many write with words of congratulation and warmth some still feel that I am mad. Really mad. Madder than Mad Jack McMad, the winner of this year’s Mr Madman competition. In a nice way of course!

It’s wonderful being back at home. It’s wonderful to have an ice cold drink, use softer toilet paper, sleep in a comfortable bed and scoff a variety of delicious food. It’s strange to sit on a toilet and watch TV. However, all I continue to want at the moment is to hug my wife and kids, hug my kids some more, and slowly return, in mind, to my family and thoughts of my future plans and build on being a better human being.

It’s wonderful being back at home. It’s wonderful to have an ice cold drink, use softer toilet paper, sleep in a comfortable bed and scoff a variety of delicious food. It’s strange to sit on a toilet and watch TV. However, all I continue to want at the moment is to hug my wife and kids, hug my kids some more, and slowly return, in mind, to my family and thoughts of my future plans and build on being a better human being.

To read more about Ripley and his adventures, go to www.ripleydavenport.com as well as www.mongolia2010.com

I first came across this extra ordinary fellow called David Renwick Grant back in 1996 when I was planning my Patagonian trip on horseback, he gave me a book about his amazing journey with his family and he taught me a lot. Most of all he inspired me a lot! He still does. We have been in contact on and off throughout the years, lately on Facebook, where he is one of the most dignified of my 2137 friends. Not long ago I read about a Family on Bikes on Facebook and felt a lot of joy! But when reading about them I realized they were very criticized by people who thought it was crazy to bring children travelling. I was stunned! We have only been sedentary, we humans, for no more than maybe a 1000 years of our total of 150 000 as a species. How than can travelling be bad? So I asked David Renwick Grant what he thought.

THREADS FROM THE TAPESTRY

by

David Renwick Grant

I was on board the RSS Discovery last week. She’s berthed permanently in her home port of Dundee, where she was built and it was several years since I had had a look at her. Whatever their preferred means of travel, I would defy anyone who walks aboard and looks up at the crow’s nest not to see in their minds eye a landscape of ice and snow, instead of the solid stone face of Dundee and the gently-flowing river Tay. The old ship has been much modified over the years but you can still stand at the wheel or look into the galley or view the restored cabins of Scott and others. I could feel a tingle start in my feet, as I contemplated faraway places….

Scott’s two expeditions were massive affairs, as was Shackleton’s and to a lesser extent Amundsen’s. At the other end of the world, Nansen’s voyage in the Fram was equally large. Yet, I reflected, it is not essential to be equipped as if for a military operation. Nor is it a prerequisite to have spent years in training and be hugely fit. Had it been, my family and I would probably never have started, let alone completed, the first, and so far as I know, so far the only global circumnavigation by horse-drawn caravan. Yes, I did write ‘my family and I.’ Horse travel is slow, it’s a long way around the world and I wasn’t going to leave them behind for years. Seven years, as it turned out.

The idea of travelling en famille had begun almost as a joke, during a particularly vile day of low, scudding cloud and horizontal rain, sitting by a fire that would not draw and with smoke blowing back down the chimney into the room. The carpet was partially airborne but not from magic, just the draught blasting in under the door. The three children were pretty small then, which ruled out walking and cycling, I never learnt to sail and anyway (ex-)wife Kate got seasick. So that seemed to leave converting a bus, truck, or retired fire-engine perhaps. Anyway, we did nothing about it then, nor in the following year but we talked about it more and more often. Then one day, while I was working away from home, living in ‘digs’ (lodgings) in Lancaster during the week, I was lying in bed reading a magazine. I turned a page and there was this article about horse-drawn caravan holidays in Ireland and a most beguiling picture of a skewbald cob pulling a light bow-top wagon. That was it! That was how we should travel. And, about two years later, we did.

What I think we demonstrated very convincingly is that there are ways to travel as a family, even over an extended period, that neither break the bank nor destroy the life-chances of the children involved. Indeed on the latter point, the reverse is true. I mean, how many kids get the chance to jog along on their own pony across the Mongolian plains while reading a text-book! Financially, I reckon it cost us approximately £10,000 per year, which is pretty modest for five people, a horse and, for part of the time, two dogs. PHOTO Courtesy of DRG

The process of preparation we went through is largely common to any extended journey. In addition we had to find a suitable caravan and suitable horse. It would have been good to have found some suitable sponsors too, but 560-odd letters produced only a limited amount, nearly all donations or discounts, for which we were very grateful but which was never going to be enough. The caravan ended up being purpose-built, to my own design, by Gaulds of Crieff, Perthshire.  I had been advised that the Netherlands was the best place to seek a driving horse. This would also avoid the need for the extensive palaver involved when crossing a frontier with a horse – and risking life, horse and caravan to manic motorists on Britain’s narrow roads. There was a very steep learning curve to follow, though, before we finally set off, nearly five weeks after crossing the North Sea.

You learn a lot about people when you travel during a seemingly continuously wet autumn,  through the monotonously flat beet-growing countryside of northern France. The caravan seemed to get smaller and smaller as it filled with more and more wet gear and we were confined to sitting in it, at day’s end, because there was nowhere to go and more wet walking held no appeal. In fact, the children, who were only ten, nine and six then, stayed aboard most of the time and if it was flat enough, I would ride on occasionally, though it was actually warmer walking. With little to look at, villages few and far between, even I was beginning to wonder whether we were quite daft. The children bore up amazingly. It was as well that we had a good, if limited, supply of books and games with us and many a deadly session of Yahtze, Vulgar Bulgars or Nine Men’s Morris kept everyone amused of an evening when cooped up with rain still hammering on the roof.

The children were fantastic travellers. As we inched our way across the map of Europe, then Central Asia, their capabilities of course increased. Of school there was none but plenty of home education more than filled the gap. Some basics, especially arithmetic and English for Fionn, who had only attended one year of primary, we taught. Most of what they learned was autonomous, though, absorbed almost osmotically. Geography was all around; arithmetic was course and distance calculations and money changing; history was often just chat, if Scottish, or visiting places like Avignon, or Budapest, or Kiev… And as it happens, they did go to school, in Slovenia, by invitation, for two terms, where they were taught in Slovenian!

As John Ridgway wrote to me before we left: “Do it. You'll regret it for the rest of your lives if you don't.” PHOTO Courtesy of DRG

By the time we had reached the Ukraine, crossed Russia and reached Kazakhstan, we were all seasoned horse-drivers, foragers, wood gatherers and, to an extent, quite good linguists. Our first horse had proved too light and been changed back in France for a solid one-tonne model, who had by now become a much-loved member of the family. The further east we went, the more hospitable and friendly people became. The weather, however, did not and we had a fairly hellish couple of months before finally arriving in Almaty, the then-capital of Kazakhstan, in temperatures of -28° with plenty snow on the ground. The wonderful thing we had found was that, moving along at walking pace meant one could meet and talk – or at least communicate – with people along the way.

We always stopped for winter and that gave us all sorts of opportunities. I have a tape of Eilidh interviewing her little brother for Slovenian radio in Slovenian. Torcuil and I took to the skies in a microlight in Hungary. In Russia, we went trawling for crayfish. We had seen the empty shops of rural Ukraine, Russia and Kazakhstan – and learnt the secret of obtaining supplies in many different ways (all honest, I must add – we never stole so much as a cabbage).

There came problems in plenty, of course. We were hit glancing blows by cars in France and Italy. We were held back, sometimes for days, by the paperwork required for taking a horse across an international border. It took a week to wear down the Russians and get through to Mongolia – but in the interim we were taken to a concert by the Direktor of the Rajon where the noted Kazakh singer Roza Rimbayeva gave a stunning performance and somehow I ended up on stage at the end! We were bothered by drunks on several occasions, the worst of these leading to a serious situation in Mongolia where the prospect of gaol for me loomed, for a while. In fact, the only times I felt threatened were caused by drunken behaviour; even wartime in Yugoslavia seemed safer. Traceur, our ‘main engine’ was largely healthy right up until our last winter, in South Dakota, where, tragically, he died of a brain tumour.

Mostly we had great experiences, a lot of fun, much hard work, saw superb swathes of still-unspoilt parts of the planet and encountered some wonderful people. The children survived our return and have all been doing well in their chosen spheres. I was the one who seemed to find it hardest to settle down. So much so, in fact, that I set off on a solo kayak journey across the Baltic from Sweden, then up and down the rivers Dvina, Ulla, Berezina and Dnepr, finishing on the Black Sea at Odessa. It was different, contained a lot fewer pressures because I had no-one else to worry about, but was not, on the whole, as enjoyable.

The Grant Family! PHOTO Courtesy of DRG

What I think we demonstrated very convincingly is that there are ways to travel as a family, even over an extended period, that neither break the bank nor destroy the life-chances of the children involved. Indeed on the latter point, the reverse is true. I mean, how many kids get the chance to jog along on their own pony across the Mongolian plains while reading a text-book! Financially, I reckon it cost us approximately £10,000 per year, which is pretty modest for five people, a horse and, for part of the time, two dogs. £70,000 is still a fair lump of money of course, even today; it came from the proceeds of the sale of our house, plus some fees for writing and even for tuition on a couple of occasions. With hindsight, we should have prepared some sort of act or entertainment we could have offered – a portable means of making money and one that does not require a rigmarole to do.

As John Ridgway wrote to me before we left: “Do it. You’ll regret it for the rest of your lives if you don’t.”

David Renwick Grant

A short biography of David:

At the end of 1997, David Grant – and his family: ex-wife Kate, children Torcuil (1980), Eilidh (1981) and Fionn (1984) – returned from travelling around the world with a horse and caravan, an unique journey which took them seven years; across fifteen countries on three continents and, incidentally, into the Guinness Book of World Records. His story of the family’s epic global journey was published by Simon & Schuster as The Seven Year Hitch, (1999) and in paperback in 2000.

Before this, he had worked as a jackaroo and sheep-shearer in Australia, in ecology and wildlife management for the Nature Conservancy (now Scottish Natural Heritage), as a crofter and prawn creel fisherman on Skye and as part of a film-crew on Orkney.

David was educated in Edinburgh, at George Watson’s College and Merchiston Castle School. After a year in the paper-making industry, he went to Aberdeen University, graduating with an MA degree in 1963. Two years in Australia followed, before a return to university, Edinburgh this time, to take a MSc degree in ecology and wildlife management.

In 2000, David undertook a solo kayak expedition from Sweden to the Black Sea, following an old Viking trade route via the rivers Daugava/Western Dvina, Ulla, Berezina and Dneiper. Along the way, he kept a look out for traces of Vikings, observed the way of life in places he passed and kept a note of the wildlife he saw, and visited local Bahá’í communities. The book about the journey, Spirit of the Vikings, was published in 2007 by The Long Riders’ Guild Press.

David’s other books are: A Submarine at War – the brief life of HMS Trooper (Periscope Publishing, 2006) about the World War II T-class boat in which his half-brother lost his life along with the rest of the crew in 1943 and The Wagon Travel Handbook (The Long Riders’ Guild Press, 2007), a distillation of his and others’ experiences of preparing for life on the, mainly horse-drawn, road in the 21^st century.

What is it like to be the wife of an adventurer?

Allow me to give you a brief picture of my world and who I was before I met Ripley.

I lived in Denmark’s metropolis: Copenhagen. Just a stones throw, with my arm, from the city center. My life was surrounded by material items and meaningless gossip with, so called girlfriends, in an uptown café every Sunday. It was our girls get together but quite simply a brunch. I could go on weekend shopping tours to London or any other city, whenever I wanted. I could spend my time in the museums or concerts at will. Whatever, wherever, it was all forgotten the next day.

At that time, I thought I was happy and didn’t want to change my life in any way. It seemed to fit. One day, it all changed.

I was on a course, one of many yawn filled lectures, with my work colleagues and at the very hotel where we were staying, Ripley Davenport was giving a presentation about his adventure in the Namib Desert. His picture, displayed in the reception, caught my eye and having nothing to do for a few hours and without thought, I purchased a ticket to see what it was all about.

The room was full with all walks of life and I was surprised at the turn out.

After an introduction, I saw this tall, bald and very confident man giving an amazing speech. The room was silent and I sat, like everyone else, overwhelmed by his story. That was the quickest hour of my life and I just had to speak to him after the event. That evening, we talked, we laughed. Three 3 months later, I quit my job, moved out of the city to the Danish countryside. Four months later we were expecting our first child. A whirlwind romance you may say but one that still blossoms.

Ripley changed my perception of what is really important in this life.

Adventure? I didn’t know what it meant before I met him. To be honest, I had a stereotype of adventurers being strange, bearded and old people. That was my first lesson: Never judge a book by its cover and every story has two sides. Ripley taught me these two minor but important rules. He lives by them, so why don´t I?

What is like to be a wife while your husband is out on an expedition?

In a way, I’m on my own little expedition but only here, in Denmark. I’m a mother of two small children, Ripley’s secretary and coach. I run his home base and remain ready for any emergency call 24/7. I take my mobile phone everywhere. Every time hear Ripley’s Satellite phone ring, my heart misses a beat and my mouth dries up.  Obviously, I’m worried about him. It’s my first time and experience being alone while Ripley is away on his expedition, so I’m still learning.

We have experienced many difficult situations together and got through each a lot wiser. I know that future challenges can be overcome. We have been through so much. I have learnt not to worry so much. I’m more focused and calm now and learn to stay rational in the extreme situations.

My daily routine consists of strong cup of coffee with milk, getting the kids ready for kindergarten and then getting back home to the office and updating Ripley’s news. Once done and few coffees later, I find ways to promote the Mongolia 2010 Expedition further on top of my normal job (I’m glad that’s only 4 hrs/day). Then I trudge out to get the shopping for dinner, pick up the kids and try to figure out what and how to cook dinners. I can’t cook and given the chance – won’t cook. It’s always been Daddy’s job, but it’s now a role reversal. Scott, our oldest 4½ years old, repeatedly says, “Mummy, daddy cooks much better dinners, why?” What can I say except laugh and find excuses?

The hardest psychological challenge was definitely the first 2 weeks. When he called me on the 3^rd day of his expedition and told me about the torrential rains and thunderstorms, his equipment being drowned and his body shivering from being cold and wet, I felt hopeless. I contacted every adventurer and endurance athlete that Ripley knew to ask for advice and support. Each helped a great deal.

That night, I had a dozen cups of coffee just to stay awake. I felt like it was a duty to stay up with Ripley through his tough night. I believe, it was harder for me.

We were on different sides of the planet and different time zones so I adjusted my clock to suit his and tried to keep in his routine.

We have experienced many difficult situations together and got through each a lot wiser. I know that future challenges can be overcome. We have been through so much. I have learnt not to worry so much. I’m more focused and calm now and learn to stay rational in the extreme situations.

I thought I was ready to take over the family duties on my own and run home base while Ripley is in Mongolia. I guess you could never be ready for anything until you’re in the actual situation. Out of my comfort zone.

We don’t have any family support in Denmark. My mother has passed away and my father has little contact. Ripley’s parents live in England and contact with them is very scarce.

I could honestly say, that we’re on our own. It’s not easy, but we do what we have to do and never moan or gripe about our situation. It makes me laugh, when people complain about small petty things. I could write an endless list of examples.

We haven’t been out for as much as an evening dinner or drink in four years. So what! We still have our time together, when kids are asleep and that’s what is important.

Being an adventurer’s wife teaches you to be happy with what you’ve got and stop comparing what your neighbour has and maybe take a cooking class once in a while?

The Davenport family!

About me:

35 years old, born in Lithuania, speak Lithuanian, Russian, English and Danish, have degree in International Business Management. Moved to Denmark in 1998. Hobby: dancing salsa

Her husband Ripley wrote this report before he set off!

Guest writer number 4 is Ripley Davenport. I met Ripley on Facebook and he is a very positive fellow and I really like that he is a daddy trying to combine this with his life as an adventurer, so I asked him to write this piece. He is39 years old, served in a special forces unit of the Royal British Navy. He served in the first Gulf War, Bosnia, Northern Ireland, West Indies and on numerous Anti/drug patrols. He is a trained Intelligence photographer, survivalist, ships diver and rescue swimmer. This piece comes straight from his training!:

I can’t sleep. By torchlight my fingers bang away at the keyboard. Little, in fact, no warmth envelops my makeshift bedroom, coloured pea green, with a NEMO logo on one side and the stove is roaring away with a ton of sugar and tea bag on standby.

I am in the far-flung reaches of nowhere, miles from anything resembling anything man-made and bloody freezing in my sleeping bag, filming, training and putting my equipment through some trials. The thermometer reads minus 19 Celsius and I have to pee.

There’s not much room on my trailer, named Molly Brown”, for a double bed, Fiat Punto or bargain bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken wings but just enough for my basic expedition equipment, grub, and a pair of compact cameras with which to attempt to capture the nuanced sprouting of my growing beard, the rosie red cheeks, the scarlet blister and the purple harness bruise. I have a Olympus 840 and a Casio EX-S880, two cameras crammed to point of madness with the latest images of a cold adventurer that has drifted away, far enough from over there and no so close to nearer to here.

I have been asked to write a blog, short story or something along those lines on the trials and tribulations of being a father and explorer/adventurer.

One dying question…is it possible to be an adventurer and father? I always answer: I hope that being good at one makes me better at the other.

How difficult it is to know where to begin. Anyone who has had the time or disposition to read the endless books that adventurers, explorers, and fathers have submitted to the book stores over the last decade or so will be aware of a number of issues that need addressing.

Crucial questions: how do polar explorers go to the toilet in minus fifty degrees Celsius and how do you change a full nappy in the dark while still fast asleep? They all say, I’ll answer that vital point momentarily, and never actually get around to answering the question.

Back to the boiling question of the moment – how do I become an adventurer and/or explorer and manage to be a good father?

Back to the boiling question of the moment – how do I become an adventurer and/or explorer and manage to be a good

father?

We are all born instinctive fathers (referring to the male audience at this point), and adventurers. It’s in our genes. Soon to be or new fathers have moments when they doubt their role as a father and somewhere along the straight and narrow they lose it, fumble around with it and it drop it into the drain. Perhaps they stagger into a wall and it falls from their pocket into something brown, slippery and smelly. Rather than pick it up, they walk away pretending it belongs to someone else.

We are all born explorers and adventurers. We didn’t need anything except our imagination, a few cheese sandwiches (essential survival food), a Mars bar and a packet of the finest salt and vinegar crisps backed up with a tin of pop. Dressed in your wellies, green parker and blue jeans you explored the very depths of your back garden and stayed there until darkness or until your old man shouted, “dinners ready!”

Now, in what possible world does an adventurer or explorer require qualifications? In what universe (whether supported by turtles, sponge cakes, badminton rackets or rubber buttons) does it say that you cannot use this title unless you walked bared footed, and in nothing but your union jack skiddies, to the South Pole?

Now the title father, daddy, papa, far, da, and so forth is available for a life time of use as long as you have expended all your savings on some female of the species – wining and dining, sharing intimate secrets and fooling around at stupid hours, like most men, for a few minutes, and shared the copious amounts of essence you have stored and then 9 months later something weird happens.

No matter how you think you will be or how you will act, nothing can describe that feeling that envelops you when your child arrives safely into the world. You’re a father. It’s a proud moment that every man will remember until the day he leaves this swirling ball we call Earth. Don’t let any man fool you. Inside, every man sheds a tear of joy when his “mini-me”, looks at you for the first time and gives wink. “Hey Dad, how’s it going?”

Explorers and adventurers share the same emotions. We weep behind the mask, goggles and balaclava when we strike that pose at the height or climax of our journey. Struggled through torment, despair, isolation, pain, and hunger and continue to push the envelope until we straddle that personal summit, reach deep inside our battered soul and weep. No one knows. No one cares. It’s your moment and you deserve the release.

There is so much in common.

As for the books themselves. I suppose I ought to come clean. I’ve only read one child book. What a load of bollox. Bad spelling I know.

No, I’ve read loads of adventure books and they’re actually damned good. But why haven’t I read more baby books? What claim do I have to call myself a rounded father if I have not bothered to glance at so much as one of the works of this astoundingly popular subject?

The two mix well. It’s that simple. The only draw back is the separation from the innocent kisses and hugs from your children. The looks they give, the lies they tell, the problems they cause and the love, the unconditional love they share with you.

It gives more reason to return home safely. To carefully evaluate every risk and check it a thousand times. There’s no room for carelessness. No room for shabby kit, training or cutting corners. You need to complete the expedition or task at hand and get home safely to your family.

Your children will want to hear the stories, the experiences, and the choices you made from this day onward. They will utter the words in later years and share your story to their children and so on down the line. When their little face smiles, your inner shutter automatically fires, a billion shots. A natural Smile Detection. You return home to your family, the mind stores their face, recognises it the next time you stand-alone in a vast wilderness, miles from nowhere and you see them. It gives hope.

That simplicity of being a father, adventurer and explorer, which is what attracts people to reach for the inner depths of their soul in the first place, clicks. Like peas and carrots.

Is it possible to be an adventurer and father? Being good at one makes you better at the other. READ more at www.mongolia2010.com

READ more at www.mongolia2010.com

"It stands to become the longest solo and unassisted walk ever completed." The Mongolia 2010 Expedition (M2010X) is a great challenge. British Adventurer Ripley Davenport will attempt the first recorded solo and unassisted traverse across the vast landmass of Mongolia, on foot from east to west, starting in April 2010. This effort to push the frontiers of human capabilities, challenge ecological values and inspire youth to reach beyond their perceived limits and engage their dreams. The Expedition will involve walking 1700 miles / 2750 km’s across the Eastern Mongolian Steppe, Gobi Desert and the Altai Mountain Range, while hauling provisions and equipment weighing in excess of 200kg in a wheeled trailer, specifically designed for the journey, in 90 days or less.