Guest writer # 19 Ripley Davenport

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







