Explorer Mikael Strandberg

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 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

My 16th guest writer is Laura Davenport, wife of the intrepid adventurer Ripley Davenport who right now is walking through Mongolia! I have always wondered how some explorers manage to find a partner who not only offer them the great opportunity to have a family with children, but also let them live their dreams. Laura and Ripley have two fantastic children together! I have kept track on Ripley and communicated quite a lot with him and his wife before and under his Expedition. Therefore, I just wanted to know Laura’s thoughts about the extra ordinary issue! Read this great report!

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.

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!

The Arabian Expedition is still far off. However, it will happen eventually. The Arab world still dominates my thoughts and life in many ways. And, a documentary will be made. Photo courtesy of Anders Åberg Film

I continue to get loads of emails asking what happened with the Arabian Expedition?

Well, the very good news is that we have one major sponsor in the waiting, but need one more to get it going. And we have a few minor one´s lining up too, but right now, it is on hold. I don´t know for how long. I am still waiting for the go ahead from the major contributor, but so far, he is still pondering. Therefore, I have returned back to Stockholm in Sweden, getting on with my old life. Lecturing, guiding, writing and waiting to see what happens. I do have some extremely interesting projects coming up on both the Exploration front and the lecturing side of life. Today I lectured at TED X in Stockholm and enjoyed their idea of spreading interesting ideas a lot. You can see the lecture LIVE here!

So, right now, it is kind of a Catch 22 situation of my life.  But, it is also an extremely good time of my life. Something I will share with you all in the future. But this is not the right time. But, it is definitely a major piece in the jigsaw of understanding the meaning of life!

I also think about Congo pretty much every day and miss the company of Jeff, Kennedy, Olly, Emmanuel and the smell of Africa.

I have met a lot of great people since I came back to Sweden, my old friend Nima for example. Who knows what will happen if we put our knowledge together?

By the way, I follow Ripley´s slog against himself in Mongolia!  And I am happy to say that Christian Bodegren have returned home after some minor problems on his Sahara trip. He has definitely grown as a human being, which shows that his Expedition was a success!

Ripley Davenport, planning the Great Crossing of Mongolia at the same time trying to be a good father….

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.