I’m Tom, originally from England, but the island was too small.
(Yes, I know, I said that on the homepage.)
The silly selfie above is from a slow-motion exploration of England’s rugged southwest peninsular, having returned to the island after 16 of the previous 20 years abroad.
This was the latest in a series of bicycle-mounted adventures which have more typically happened in further-flung (for me) places like Sudan, Iran, Yemen, Syria, the Arctic, Ethiopia, Mongolia, Myanmar, and the list goes on. There are around 50 countries on it, I think. It’s been a while since I counted.
A love of adventure and exploration is what turns my pedals, and a love of writing is what drives this blog.
So whether you’re just dipping a toe into this world or you’re well into planning a big trip, and you’re sick of sifting through spam blogs that sound like they’ve been written by robots (spoiler alert: they have), you’re in the right place.
Wait, but… why explore the world by bicycle anyway?
For me, it may have started when my parents took the stabilisers off my first bike and I disappeared across the village green, aged 4. Cue much fretting and wailing from aforementioned parents.
Aged 6, I completed my first long-distance cycle tour: a lap of Rutland Water. All 17 miles of it. Including the peninsular.
As an older child, one of my ambitions was to ride my BMX off a ramp into the River Welland. (I built a ramp, but wasn’t quite brave enough to take the leap.)
At university I got fat and lazy and spent much of my final year trying to burn it off by throwing myself down the hillsides of Exmoor on a cheap mountain-bike (a Trek 4000, as mentioned in my bikeography).
Having graduated, I went to Scotland and spent a week dragging my bike along rainy off-road trails in the West Highlands. Thoroughly miserable, it was the most fun I’d ever had on a bike until then.
The logical next step seemed to be to try and ride as far as possible and see what happened. In late 2006 I began planning an ambitious project called “Ride Earth” – a journey around the world by bicycle.
This is where the story gets more interesting, because it doesn’t feel like I ever really come back.
What am I doing now?
I’ve travelled five continents on my bicycle since that first trip in 2006. Most of my twenties involved spending months at a time on the road, setting up home wherever I saw fit, and meeting thousands of other wanderers in the process. This somehow became my full-time occupation; no fixed abode, a life on the road, and “cycling round the world” became a lifelong goal, rather than a single epic trip.
My thirties saw these journeys take on purposes beyond sheer curiosity. I honed my storytelling skills, wrote and published books, and made and premiered films, all with the aim of inspiring others to embrace their own curiosity and explore the world in their own individual ways.
Now, in my early forties, I’ve established basecamps in Armenia (long story), where I’ve helped establish the country’s first long-distance trail network; and England, where I currently hold the post of Expeditions & Fieldwork Manager at the Royal Geographical Society (obviously). My life continues to revolve around helping launch a diverse range of trips, expeditions, and creative projects which have gone far beyond some bloke wanting to ride his bike into the sunset.
This blog, as well as recounting my own tales of adventure, is now mainly about helping others explore the potential of bicycle travel as a tool for making personal, meaningful journeys.
If you’re dreaming of life on two wheels, or you’re actively planning a journey, or even if you’re a seasoned veteran, there’s probably something here for you.
(Half a million words of blog posts? Statistically it’s all but certain!)
Want to keep in touch?
Every few months – or less if there’s nothing worth telling you, as everyone hates spam – I send out an email newsletter with the latest news about my riding and writing. It’s free, secure, does not require you to download an app or opt out of marketing messages, and you can unsubscribe at any time.
OK – where next? How about the absolutely massive advice and planning resource library?