How it began

Let me explain. This is me on October 30th 2006. I'm skating off a ferry that goes backwards and forwards across the Murray River in South Australia, near a small place called Wellington. Why am I doing this? Because, I guess, I wanted to. Those cars and vans that are chasing me, they're not really chasing me. They're the support vehicles. The jeep was called Cheech, the one behind it with the bull bars, that be Kylie. And the one behind that which you can't quite see except for the grey stuff on its roof, that was George. George was named after a mechanic who fixed him back in Perth. Yes, Perth. That's where I'd come from, on my vehicle, Elsa the longboard. I was heading to Brisbane and at this point had pushed poor Elsa about 2900km, across deserts and stuff. We were about halfway across the Big Red by then. I was tired, Elsa was tired, everyone was tired, and then we crossed the Murray. It was the most peaceful two hundred metres of my life.

I'd started longboarding about 18 months previous and to make sure I was ready for Australia I'd skated, with Elsa, from John O'Groats to Lands End, the length of Britain. That hurt a bit. This was hurting more though, because Australia is quite big, you see. I'd decided that enough was enough, no more silly job that I didn't like, it was time to live life. I suppose I wanted to prove to myself that I could live life, to the full, to the limit. So I set up BoardFree. It started small and it got bigger, mainly because of all the people that helped me. See the support vehicles, they're not driving themselves. There were people inside them. English people. They'd come a long way. Their names were Dan, Simon, Kate, Becki, Bev, Holly and Dimitri. And they'd soon be joined by Laura and Pete, too. And others. Loads of people. Hard sometimes, but worth it, I think. This was life.

Anyway, my point is this. I loved crossing that river. There were no cars or road trains screaming past my ear. Dangerous. Noisy. There were just pelicans swooping and lush green banks full of trees waving in the wind. They were waving to me, it seemed. And I thought, 'how nice it would be to travel further on this river, and what a shame it is to be leaving so soon.'

That was a seed being planted, and somewhere between the west bank and the east bank, The Great Big Paddle was born, I just didn't know it at the time. A couple of years later I've decided I'd like to go back to Australia and paddle the length of the Murray River. And then I'd like to do the Amazon. And then some other things with a paddle as well. I hope other people will join me, and I hope it's all as life-affirming as BoardFree was. I certainly plan on running The Great Big Paddle just as I ran BoardFree, with big horizons. These things aren't holidays, they're a confirmation of human potential. I'm also looking forward to getting some fat arms, because for two years I've been walking around with fat legs and barely anything above the waist. If becoming a normal shape isn't motivating enough, then I don't know what is!

I love endurance travel. The things you see, the people you meet, the obstacles you pass, by the end you're humbled and it's harder to take day-to-day life for granted. There's a satisfaction form self-propelling yourself across countries that makes me whole. I can't rightly explain it, but that doesn't mean I'm crazy! I guess as long as my body holds out I'll continue to push my own limits, and if that encourages others to do the same, on whatever level, then that's the best result I could hope for.

Thanks so much for getting this far, I hope you stay with us for the ride. Now though, I've got two things to get on with. First, I have to get my taxes done. And then I really must learn to paddle.

Dave Cornthwaite, somewhere in deepest London, 29th January 2009