Alternate paths and Unplugging

One of the bloggers that I subscribe to recently published an e-book where unplugging from your day job is part of the theme. Good writing normally inspires me and this particular piece got me thinking of how I’ve managed “unplug” from everyday life over the years. This includes the many characters I have known who have “unplugged” from normality and done things the other way around.

Cape Epic 2006 was one long party, with long time friends Trevor Seinen and Gary Neill being the protagonists. After over a week on the road, the beer certainly flowed at the finish at Spier.

My interest in the travels of others dates back to my high school days. I was fortunate to be friendly with several top athletes who were 10-plus years older than me and took me under their wing. Looking back, I realize how fortunate I was to have this outlet and friendship; their maturity - and sometimes lack of – and zest for life had a lasting impression on me, as were the stories of their travels abroad. Status and athletic accomplishments aside, it was the way the lived their lives as well as their perspectives that fascinated and intrigued me, even though was in only my mid-teens.

One guy stands out in my mind. A medical doctor by profession, he decided early on to pursue a career in elite triathlon whilst maintaining a peripheral medical career; he worked part-time in day-clinics on the Cape Flats whilst training almost full time. A man of many talents, his house was always in the process of some alteration or maintenance project. I remember once arriving at his house to go cycling only to spend the next few hours helping him sanding his window panes whilst procrastinating over which route to take. Long rides were often spent discussing subjects like the state of the nation and what type of shrub would grow best in sandy soil. Not the usual subjects you would expect a top athlete to mull over, let alone during training.

An unlikely group of intellectuals, visionaries and entrepreneurs behind the more prominent brawn.

He then moved to the UK in order to pursue the European triathlon circuit, settling in a small town outside of London. In return for the small cottage that he and his wife lived in, he was expected to perform a specific amount of gardening and maintenance on the greater property where the cottage was situated. He eventually settled into a fulltime medical career after “living the dream” well into his late-thirties. Indeed an unconventional path, but an interesting one nonetheless.

Upon leaving school and entering the world of tertiary education, some of my former school mates/chicks pursued an alternate path after high school. One girl bought a round-the-world ticket at age eighteen and has yet to settle in one place almost two decades later! Another fellow pupil stands out in my memory. He spent the last few years of school living with his parents on a yacht in Hout Bay harbor, with no TV. His father had spent years constructing the vessel in his back garden when they lived in suburbia, much to the ire of their neighbors. He was probably the only guy at school to have raw vegetables in his lunch box – talk about a simple yet effective upbringing!

After matric, he headed for England where he ended up working on a tomato farm, with intermittent trips to the Continent for a bit of sightseeing and a lot of revelry. He eventually had all of his money stolen by his employer. His parents had to buy him a plane ticket so he could return home to Cape Town in time to enlist in the navy.

The SAS Protea has had it's fair share of personalities pass through its wardrooms.

Spending three years as a navy diver in Simons Town, he got to travel the world aboard the various ships he was posted to. As anybody who has served the military will tell you, there are some extended times of extreme boredom, which can make a person think too much and consider their options. But the travel opportunities are often unique as are some of the experiences. Diving off the SAS Protea and swimming underneath the hull to the other side whilst moored off St Helena island isn’t an everyday occurrence. But it was just one of his many unique experiences. After leaving the navy and a stint at university, he is now a successful commercial diver.

Over my working career, I’ve gradually realized that extended holidays without a purpose are counterproductive for me. Early in my career, I would take the maximum amount of leave over December/January and not go away anywhere. While these extended periods would indeed be a welcome break from the more mundane jobs I’ve had over the years, I would battle to get back into the groove once returning to work. When I think back to some of my more “boring/dead end” jobs, the more I felt the need to just blob at home for extended periods. Conversely, as my level of job satisfaction improved over the years, my need for taking these long annual breaks dissipated. I began moving towards several shorter interludes with purpose.

These shorter breaks were directly related to my fledgling side “career” as a gopher for cycling teams; starting in 2005, I became an aspirant soigneur to teams of all levels. Three weeks at home did not seem that appealing an option anymore. Short fleeting trips to some of the more obscure places in South Africa and Namibia became an alternative raison d'être, complementing my cartography career and sporting interests. My flame was reignited so to speak, and this new zest for living overflowed into other aspects of my life in a wholly positive manner.

For Kenyan cycling bucaneers, David Kinja and Davidson Kamau, the ABSA Cape Epic is another adventure to enhance their fledgling cycling careers. Nice guys don't always finish last.

I can certainly relate to the surfer who chases the perfect wave whilst on surf trips to exotic and distant places. Travelling the world whilst pursuing your passion is something I’ve always admired in the various watermen and women I’ve known over the years. Watching various documentaries about the Quicksilver Crossing and other travelling surfers over the years has always left me inspired; my “surf trip” being cycling events and the supporting role that I’ve come to embrace as a passion.

In search of the perfect wave - the Quicksilver Crossing is inspirational in many ways.

The past eight years have provided the most interesting of times, not to mention the host of fascinating and engaging people whom I’ve got to know. The 2008 Cape Epic was a good example of the above statement. That edition of the race was the longest in history; a nine day stage race starting with a Friday prologue in an exclusive golf estate above Knysna and finishing in Lourensford the following Saturday.

I was fortunate enough to have my mountain bike with me that year and was able to do some serious riding whilst the participants were busy suffering through each stage. Each day was a different adventure, which would follow a similar pattern: drop my riders at the stage start; pack up the accommodation and head for the finish town’s accommodation; unpack the rider’s luggage and assemble my bike; drive to the stage finish and ride for 2-4 hours; returning in time for the top riders to cross the line; shower in the race village and wait for my riders to finish, before taking them back to our homestay for refueling/laundry and back to the race village for massage/mechanics/dinner.

One day early in the race, I was riding along an isolated road behind Knysna and came across an English guy riding a road bike in ill-fitting cycling kit. It turned out he was accompanying some friends who were participating in that year's Epic; he was riding his road bike from town to town with absolutely no idea where he was going and relied on directions from the locals. The airline had lost part of his luggage, meaning he had to borrow cycling clothes from a larger friend. Ironic in the sense that he owns a large bike shop in the Channel Islands and is normally not wanting for snazzy cycling attire!

The Prince Alfred's Pass, South Africa.

Another day, I was riding through the isolated farmlands behind Bredasdorp and was in need of refilling my water bottle. The temperatures were above 30°C and I needed to get back to the laundry within the next hour and a half. After coming across a tiny farmhouse, this dear old lady invited me in for ice cold water, tea and cake! It turned out she had lived there for 30 years and her 8 year old grandson was their visiting; he was already riding a motocross bike around the property!

An interesting encounter was my meeting two Italian riders, who were riding fully rigid Niner mountain bikes. Bear in mind that this was before the 29-inch craze, which took the sport of MTB by storm a few years later. Only one of them spoke English and we had many a long conversation about the state of government service in both Italy and South Africa. Interestingly, these guys were the most low-tech MTBers I’ve encountered, using pantyhose as their compression garments. They also had some quirky approaches to nutrition, effectively fasting from the end of each stage until dinner time. This was apparently a highly effective detoxification and lactic acid "draining" method. We became good friends and I had the pleasure of chaperoning them in the following year’s Cape Epic.

"Ah Jason. South African events are so organized, like the Germans. You guys bring the water to the desert. In Italy, it may be too much work. We like to be tranquilo." Claudio Pellegrini, possibly the most relaxed cyclist I have ever met. Anywhere

These sorts of trips certainly opened my eyes to life in the small towns of South Africa. One town that had a lasting effect on me was Uniondale, which I first visited in the 2007 Cape Epic. Co-incidentally, I ended up working on an organic farm there later that year, which I detailed in a previous post.

Spending an extended period in a small town can be quite a shock to the system if you come from the city. One thing that I’ve noticed is the quietness that prevails, which is especially evident in the weekend afternoons after the hustle and bustle of the morning. Uniondale is no exception, although is rather unique. It has a couple of small shops/supermarkets – no Spar supermarket as with many other towns – yet three or four banks in the main street! There is a farmstall/restaurant/general dealer on the Avontuur road owned by a former car salesman from Plettenberg Bay. After his finding out that I was in the mapping industry, he showed me a collection of his maps; he had ZAR300-00 per map. After explaining to him that they were produced by the government and are sold at ZAR30-00 per sheet to the public, he resolved to track down the hustler who had sold them to him in the first place. He also couldn’t believe that I was cycling to and from Harlem everyday whilst working at an organic farm. Needless to say, he kindly obliged to take a photograph of me outside his stall.

I was the only one smiling, after revealing the true price of 1:50 000 scale topographic maps.

These are the sorts of memories that I deem most valuable. Unique experiences and interesting people continue to inspire and motivate me all the same. I can’t say that I have ever returned from one these journeys not being motivated for something. Often I’m not exactly sure what I’m motivated for, but maybe that is motivation enough.