Issue 151

BoardFree

29th January 2007

The 60km a day mission

December 12

I hope that the record-breaking push into Sydney lifts our spirits just enough to keep us going until a week-long break from Christmas Eve onwards. We all need it, we're all looking forward to it. God help us, my feet are begging me for a rest!

Made it!

December 16

And so it was. At 3pm this afternoon I gathered outside the Bicentennial Gates with a group of skaters from the Monster skate park, with Kate and Kelly and Lisa and Jackie from Sailability Australia, with two camera crews from 7 and 10, with an AAP photographer, with a man named Mark who had heard about my journey a month earlier and bought a red rollsrolls because of it. Juergen and Colin representing the Magic Touch and all of the sponsors who stuck their necks out and helped a beginner skate his way across two countries. Alex was there with Connor, who was going to ride through his Lowe Syndrome on a tricycle, my parents were there, my brother and Maddy, my team. My team who helped me here, my team who were mostly strangers a year ago on this day. Kate, who is so much more than just a team member, my personal lifejacket who puts up with more than any woman should.

We started off and continued down Australia Avenue, left for a few hundred metres and then left onto Olympic Boulevard. Kids skating alongside, the team walking, Kelly in her wheelchair, Connor peddling hard. Everyone moved ahead for the last 100m. I walked with the team, arms on shoulders, final words. "We did this together" I told them before they pushed me ahead, into a funnel of people, across the line. 4831km skated, Laura screamed, Holly cried, my parents smiled. I'm sure, even though I didn't see him instantly, that Simon mouthed the two simple words, "World Record."

One year isn't enough....

December 30

2007 is 24 hours and a couple of dramatic fireworks displays away, and as I sit in a room overlooking a dark Rushcutters Bay in Sydney I know I've just had the year of my life. There are two other years in my past that I can look back on and say, 'yep, just had a real goodun.' 1999 shook my body free of school and introduced me to adulthood, to travel and to self belief. 2001 led me back to Uganda, to a strange few months of waking up under canvas to the rumblings of baby redtail monkeys using my tent as a slide. It was a time when I realised the values I'd take with me through life - some were selfish and dedicated to freedom and happiness, others led me to believe that whatever you were doing and wherever you were, things can end instantly. Five and a half years ago I had long hair to my shoulders and was at my best when a parrot sat on my shoulder, but for all my hippyish actions and appearance I was totally businesslike in my approach to life. Common sense came first, and logic dictated that if a chance came along and I didn't take it, then I'd be kicking myself too hard not to regret missed opportunities. I wasn't going to grow old with regrets, I wasn't going to rely on the school-university-training-work cycle of life to send me forwards. I'd behave, I'd have ambition, I'd take the little chances that came along and sooner or later something would smack me in the face so hard I'd be an absolute fool not to sit up and take notice.

Nothing was wasted in my 2006. Despite tears and debt and arguments and strain, I don't think anyone on my team would say they've wasted 2006. Do I regret BoardFree? No chance. BoardFree changed my life, it gave me a new life. Can you get any better than that? The best year of my life is ending. I might just try and do better next year.

Here we go again...

January 1

The new year started with a bang. The BoardFree team stood side by side within a calm Rushcutters Bay crowd, staring wide eyed as the fireworks jumped from Sydney Harbour Bridge directly ahead and leapt up from the top of the centre's high rises slightly to our left, dancing flashes of colour reflecting off the water and glass walls surrounding the harbour, smoke filling the air as over 100,000 firecrackers were released to celebrate the Bridge's 75th anniversary. Earlier, Simon led the team in what was possibly the most atrocious conga Sydney had ever seen. The genius plan involving ten of us joining the line for the toilet, only to break off chanting the famous "da da da Da, Da DA" when we reached the front of the queue, never quite materialised. So, we gathered courage, in Si's case it was certainly Dutch, clutched each other's waists and staggered most ungloriously into the dark. One thing came of the conga, which Si insisted on calling "The Congo" all night.

Premature reflections

January 14

The first days of skating in 2007 have flown by. Every metre I travel on Elsa now extends the world distance skating record. Every two days more than a 100km falls from the total left until Brisbane. A wave of support from passing motorists on the road pushes me towards Queensland, the last State, the place where it ends. Every other car honks its horn, passengers take photos, strangers hang out of their windows and shout at me;
"You're a legend!"
"You're the man, brother!"
"Keep going mate, almost there!"
"Yeaaaaaaaah!"

If you haven't been on the road with us it might be hard to imagine how it feels to be a part of the BoardFree team right now. I skated across a traffic light-controlled crossroads in Coffs Harbour and every car queuing on the other side - all ten of them - let their horns go. Awesome! After all it has put us through, Australia is willing us on, willing us to succeed.

Queensland. State Five

January 20

Western Australia, South Australia, Victoria, New South Wales and now Queensland. Two years ago I knew the names but not where their vast bulks sat in the giant Australian jigsaw. Now, thanks to an intimate five months skating across the world's sixth largest country, only a quick bout of Alzheimers would rid me of my love for this great, empty lump of land.

I crossed the last border of BoardFree Australia on Wednesday 17th January. Waking up in Tweed Heads, I had just 4km to skate before Tweed turns to Coolangatta and the clocks – rather confusingly considering Queensland is directly north of New South Wales – turned back an hour.

Two days of rest separated the Gold Coast from Brisbane. We stayed in Hope Island with Chris Cleator and his delightful family, and I found myself feeling more at home than I've felt in years. I still find it strange seeing my ugly mug on the telly, especially when the focus of the piece isn't BoardFree or one of our charities. A 30 second NBN piece showing me plummeting down a ridiculously steep water slide with a face like jelly will always serve to add to the awareness of this journey – but I'll never quite get to grips with the way Australia has taken to BoardFree, and am happy to be the occasional light entertainment which brightens up the otherwise dismal news reports.

The big morning

January 22

It's 06:45 on Monday 22nd January 2007 and the phone has rung seven times this morning. In ten minutes I give my first interview, and it doesn't look like there's going to be time to go to the toilet then until half nine.

Next door the team are spread out on mattresses like a parade of homeless, and I wonder if their dreams are permeated with mock-up phone calls, because surely they can hear the ring tone through the wall, again and again and again. We're all very sleepy, it's time to wake up. Coffee, Cereal. Kate takes two calls when she's pouring her milk. In six hours, if all goes to plan, BoardFree Australia reaches its climax. How do I feel? I don't know how to feel – excitement, sadness. I feel kind of empty and unsure – how did we get to Brisbane so quickly? The joy of it all is slightly tempered by our fundraising total. Perhaps $120,000 was a big ask, but with the attention the journey has received I don't think it's been unrealistic. We currently rest just over $40,000 - although the finishing line approaches there's still an awful lot of work to be done.

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